She Doesn't Like It When You Call Her That
by random-uncanon
Summary: She has daddy issues. A temper. An addictive personality. She also gets a kick out of violence. Join the Lone Wanderer as she travels with Charon and eventually Butch and gets them all into trouble. Short chapters. LW/Charon RnR please.
1. Leaving The Vault

﻿A/N: First off, this is going to be a bit like those other LW/Charon fics out there. I'm aware of that and I'm sorry. We think kind of in the same fashion. It can't really be helped. Secondly, I'm lacking in the scenery descriptions department. This is because scenery descriptions bore the piss out of me. I know I'm by far not the best author around the block, and I accept it. That's why writing is a hobby and not a holy quest for me. But if it bothers you that much, don't read. Also, I do like constructive criticism, so feel free to dish it out. Just, please, don't overwhelm me or make me cry. :D And even if you don't have any criticism, I love comments because they make me feel like others are enjoying this as well.

And I'm not the first person to do chapters from both LW's side and Charon's. As far as I know credit for that idea goes to InRodWeTrust, so go read their story too. xD I also plan on doing chapters from Butch's perspective and maybe some others. It's fun to experiment. Chapters are really, really short and sometimes jump around to skip boring parts of the game we've seen dozens of times, and there are a few spoilers ahead for people who haven't done the main quest, but updates should be fairly frequent unless I get horribly discouraged for some reason. Also, my LW has a name. It will be revealed later. Now, enjoy(?) the story.

**UPDATE:** I have added a shit-ton of beginning to this chapter and the next. It's not necessary to read the extra text to understand the story - it just gives you more background on my LW. If you want, you can totally just skip to the last sectioned-off part of the chapter, which was the original.

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"Come on, wake up!! Lin-Lin, this is really important! No - don't shut your eyes again!" she whined.

I rubbed my eyes and yawned, feeling a little dizzy. "I know you're upset you didn't take up the chance to get drunk with me last night, but jeez, party's over..." I grumbled, trying to roll over. She grabbed my shoulders with a baffling sudden spasm of strength (or I was just particularily weak at that moment) and sat me up herself. "It's your dad - he's left the vault! Everyone's losing it! If the wrong person sees you, you might get killed!"

My mind was spinning. "What? Left? But he can't leave. No one can leave. We're damned to this hellhole for eternity, aren't we?"

"C'mon, Lin, we don't have time for this! We've got to get you out of here!" She moved around my room and started shoving my belongings into a bag she had brought with her. "You should use this bat if anyone attacks you on the way. I tried to find my father's gun but I couldn't; I'm sorry..." she rambled, shoving the sack in my face.

I stared at it wide-eyed. "On the way where?"

She dropped the bag and flailed her arms about impatiently. "Lin, have you been listening at all to me?!" Well, kinda. But what she was saying wasn't making a lot of sense and to be honest all I wanted to do was go back to sleep and dream about turning her gay. "You have to get out of the vault, too! Nobody will let you stay here after this. If my father gets ahold of you he'll have you killed for sure!" She grabbed my arm and started yanking me off the bed.

"But I didn't do anything!" I snapped, my mood souring as I came to the conclusion that my father had escaped this wretched place with the intent of leaving me here to rot. "I had no idea my dad was planning this shit! It's not my fault!"

Amata drooped a little. She seemed a bit more calm. "I'm sorry... I didn't know he would keep something like that from you..."

"Whatever," I said, slinging the bag over my back and gripping the bat firmly. "It's not like it matters or anything. Take me to the exit. And if we run into any trouble along the way, believe me: I've got plenty of rage to put to good use."

Amata nodded and I followed her out into the corridors.

We hurried through the halls and radroaches distracted most of the security guards we encountered. I wondered where they had all come from. They probably just scuttled in when my dad made his break for it. Absently I snatched a pair of nifty tinted glasses from a freshly dead body that some of the little buggers had been chewing on.

"Um, we're going right for your dad's office," I muttered, gripping Amata's hand tightly as I shoved the eyewear into my bag.

"It's the only way to get you out," she whispered, tugging me along with her when the coast was clear. "Dad has an emergency escape route to the exit in his office, and there's no way we could get you to the main door..."

I accepted this and we ran into her and the Overseer's apartment. She tried to pull me over to the office door, but I stopped when I caught a very disgusting smell. It was unlike anything I'd ever encountered before, and I was curious to investigate.

"Lindsay, no!" hissed Amata. As I walked towards the smell she gave up and rushed over to her father's office, where she began hastily picking the lock on the door.

My breath caught in my throat when I discovered the source of the odor. There, on the floor, in a small lake of his own blood, was my father's assistant, Jonas. He must have been there for a long time, and that was why he smelled so awful. His body was battered and broken, dark bruises showing vividly against his already brown skin. He was several years older than me, but in this miserable place he was one of the few people who didn't treat me like an outcast, and for that I considered him one of my closest friends.

And now he was dead.

Amata was attempting to pull me towards the door, but I stood firm. "Amata," I said slowly. My body temperature was flaring up, and I could feel several muscles in my face and body twitching involuntarily. Amata was hanging her head in shame. I could see her in the corner of my eye. "Tell me what the fuck happened here. Or I'm not going anywhere."

"All right, but this is going to be quick." She nervously peeked out the apartment window and continued in a rushed tone. "Jonas was going to go with your father. But since your dad went first, Jonas got caught. My dad lost it... and this happened. I hated it. I begged him to call his guards off, but he just went crazy." She put her hand on my shoulder, and looked into my eyes. I relaxed a little, but I knew if I looked back at her, I'd dissolve into a puddle of stupid tears. So I instead focused on Jonas, his meaningless death, and how pissed to the fucking core it made me.

"Someone's coming, Lin-Lin, please!" Amata wailed, clinging to me. I gripped the old bat tight enough that it almost cracked, and as a security guard came ambling into the room my head snapped to the door and I broke the instrument over his head in one quick, fluid movement. He blacked out immediately, and I was too busy wailing on him with my fists to notice that Amata had already entered the office.

"I've got the tunnel open," she called, peering out from the office. "Come on, Lin, he wasn't one of the ones who killed Jonas!"

"I don't care!" I cried, giving him one last good punch before joining Amata in the tunnel. She hit a switch on the wall as we descended the steps and the opening began to close behind us.

I was gnawing on my lip in an attempt to cool it as the adrenaline rush tried to get the better of me. It was quiet in the tunnel, save for the couple of radroaches clicking and scurrying about. "What are you going to do, Amata?"

"I'm going to stick around here," she said softly, and I once more reached for her hand instinctively. She didn't resist.

We came to the main exit. "I don't want to leave you," I said, squeezing her hand. I refused to tear up, but it was so damn hard. At the same time, I knew staying here with her was pointless, as I would just be killed. Killed like Jonas, who deserved it no more than I did. "Why don't you come with me?"

I melted like candy as she hugged my tightly, and I felt her soft, delicate body pressing against mine without inhibitions. But the moment did not last, and before I knew it, she pulled away. "I can't. I'm sorry. I need to stay here." I all but collapsed from misery as she entered the command on the panel to open the main door. The ear-splitting shrieking of metal jolted me back to my senses as the door to the outside pulled back and opened up. "I'm going to try to fix things up back here. I'll miss you, Lin-Lin, now go!" she cried, giving me a gentle push in the direction of the exit.

I took one last miserable look at her before I turned and ran out of the vault and into the unknown. Was I going to die soon? I could hear the door shutting behind me as I emerged into some kind of cave. Still, I kept running.

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I couldn't see a fucking thing as soon as I stepped outside. A flash of white hit me like a hammer, and I grunted and shielded my face with both my arms, coming to a clumsy stop. Fiddling blindly through my belongings, I whipped out the tinted glasses and applied them to my face. They only helped a tiny bit.

"Why is it so fucking bright out here?!" I screamed, fairly certain that there was nothing around that would think, "Hey, what's that sound? I'd better go and investigate and - OH LOOK! Food!"

Now that I was out and away from Amata, I could focus on being bitter and angry instead of being sad and sentimental. So, my dad just left me there, all alone, and he was going to take his bloody assistant but not me, his own daughter?

I bet he doesn't give a damn what happens to his precious little sweetheart any more. Fine. Whatever. Let him have his fun, prancing around by himself. I'd do something productive, instead. I didn't need him. And I sure as hell didn't need the Overseer and that stupid little vault. Hell, I didn't even need Amata, really.

My vision came into focus, finally, and I about freaked out. "God... it's so big..." I muttered, taking in my surroundings with a pounding heart. "Shit... Look at that... You can't even see the end of the sky... Crazy..." The horizon wasn't any better. It was a lot um, bigger, than I ever thought it would be. I was pretty intimidated. I saw a bunch of buildings ahead of me. It looked like the best place for me to go, since there was pretty much nothing else everywhere I looked. "It's so dusty out here," I choked miserably.


	2. Hey, Look Where I Ended Up

A/N: As with the first chapter, if you wanna skip to the bottom section, no real harm will come of it. But if you're not lazy (like I am) then enjoy the whole chapter.

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It was eerily quiet in the outside world. Everything was brown, covered in dirt and dust. It was hard to keep my balance walking on the uneven ground, and I was suffering from a sudden case of vertigo, so I took quite a few topples. Luckily no one was around to see.

There were remnants of houses all around, and off to my left, I could see a very large, square building, no more intact than the others. Part of me was curious but most of me was nervous. I wasn't armed, and I didn't want to get eaten up by some wasteland monster.

As I walked through the desolate ghost town my eyes caught sight of a sign. It was painted over in red paint that didn't look nearly as old as everything else. "Megaton" is what it said. And there was an arrow pointing in a direction. I tilted my head at it quizzically for a moment, then shrugged to myself and followed it.

It led uphill a ways to this enormous metal thing. It wasn't like the icy silver metal of the vault, it was all browned and rusted and thrown together in what looked like a very haphazard way. It seemed to be a kind of big fence. I frowned at it and walked around it a little, and saw a robot that I recognized as a Protectron Unit standing outside of what looked like a gate.

"Welcome, paaardner," it said with a really stupid accent. I ignored it and entered the gate.

"Gahh, what the fuck?" I murmured to myself, shrinking back a little. Apparently this "Megaton" was some kind of weird, post-war town. It looked like someone had gutted a really shitty vault and thrown all the rooms down in stacks with little ramps weaving this way and that. Dirty people in dirty clothes were everywhere, and there was a goddamn two-headed cow just sitting around.

The town was shaped like a bowl and at the bottom center was a giant, peculiar-shaped thing. I tried to look inconspicuous as I clambered nervously up one of the ramps, hoping desperately that the bloody thing wouldn't just give way under my weight. I spotted a building labelled "Moriarty's Saloon" and made a beeline for it. Yes, booze, more booze would make me feel better.

I coughed as I entered the dark, stuffy bar. My eyes watered a little. What was that in the air? I saw someone sitting off to the side, smoking. Nobody had ever done that in the vault. I wrinkled my nose and started for the bar...

...And froze with comically wide eyes as I saw the bartender.

He was literally like a zombie. Only he wasn't all "snarl, snarl, hiss," he was staring down at the counter with a dejected look and rubbing it over and over in the same circle with a dirty cloth. He had wisps of brown hair in patches on his peeling head, and was wearing a grubby white shirt. Muscles on his arms and neck were exposed, and I found myself walking over to him in utter fascination with a tilted head.

"Hi there," I said, not realizing that I looked like a freaking kid in a sweets shop.

He looked up at me in an instant and turned his eyes down again. "Oh, hey. Can I get you something to drink, smoothskin?"

"That depends," I said with a restrained smile. "Can I pay with stuff? I don't have any money."

"Sure, as long as it's not junk," he said quietly.

"Do you have Nuka-Cola?!" I asked, getting excited. I was too jumpy to want booze anymore. Now I wanted sugar. He pulled up a bottle and I clapped my hands eagerly before popping off the top. I took a swig and delighted in the wonderful bubbly liquid that slightly burned my throat. "You can have whatever's in there," I said, putting up my bag on the counter.

He gave me a befuddled look and started sifting through the contents. When he was satisfied with a couple dumb trinkets Amata'd shoved in there, he turned back to me. "You're... not from around here, are you?"

I took off the tinted glasses and put them away. It was dark enough in here anyway. Darker than the vault, even. It gave me a better look at zombie boy and I saw that he was actually kind of adorable, in a homely, puppy sort of way. So, this was my first human contact outside of the vault. I was about to be put to the test. I was stoked. Could I fit in out here?

"No, I'm not actually. Well, not too far. I just come from a very secluded place. Saaay, what's a smoothskin?" I asked chipperly.

He blinked at me for a moment, and then he actually smiled. It felt so good to have a stranger smile at me - proved I wasn't a total failure of a human. "Are you kidding? Heh, you. You're a smoothskin."

I took a sip of my soda and made a curious face. "So, what does that make you?" My foot was shaking back and forth eagerly. I felt like I could have run a marathon out of pure exhilaration.

"A ghoul," he said, with a smile that told me I really should have known these things already. "I'm Gob."

I stuck out my hand and he stared at it for a second before realizing that I meant for him to shake it, after which he shyly did so. "You're cool, Gob! You're the first ghoul I've met. If all ghouls are like you, then I'll like them too! I'm..." I paused abrubtly. I'd just escaped the hellish confines of the vault. Did I really want to keep my old name? The one who my father, whom I've never done anything other than upset, gave to me? The name everyone knew as the outcast, the failure, the hopeless dyke?

Hell no! I was a new person, now. I'd push all of that vault stuff away, and never think about it again. Out here, no one had ever met me. They had no opinions about me. I could be the girl I'd always wanted to be. A new person.

I wiped the dumb look off of my face and grinned back at him. "Minion," I finished. "That's my name." I thought it sounded cool and comic booky.

"Nice to meet you, Minion," said Gob pleasantly. I noted that just during the short amount of time we'd been conversing, he'd perked right up.

"Hey, listen, when I said I was from a secluded place, I meant very secluded..." I began, blushing a little. "I really have no idea what life is like out here. You think you could give me some tips?" He seemed to have a hard time believing this, but he still obliged me. He told me that the main currency of the wasteland was Nuka-Cola bottlecaps. I thought that was the most bizarre thing ever, but I accepted it.

He also told me about these dicks called raiders that basically roamed the wastes like pirates, except that they were batshit crazy and ate people too. And slavers you had to watch out for. That was how Gob got stuck in his current position. He was now so far in debt to Moriarty that he'd practically never get out on his own.

"If I was rich, I'd totally help you," I said eagerly, after my third Nuka-Cola.

"It's all right, I'm used to it," he sighed.

He told me about Rivet City, a big broken ship that people lived in to the southeast, about super mutants and mole rats, and anything else he could think of. I thanked him for all of his help, and asked him where I could pawn some of my stuff off for weapons and supplies. He told me to go see a woman named Moira.

I bought myself a 10mm gun and some more stylish clothes. That woman, Moira, immediately knew I had come from a vault as she recognized my jumpsuit, and I begged her to keep that on the down-low. She asked if I wanted to help her write some silly survival guide or something, but I didn't feel like it. I didn't see any benefit in it for me, and this woman was seriously annoying. Her perkiness meter shot through the roof, and probably hit the end of the sky.

I found out that the thing in the center of town was an undetonated atomic bomb, but the freaky thing was that the thing was still active. The fuck was wrong with these people? Were they suicidal? I decided I didn't want to be around Megaton for very long, in case it decided it felt like going off suddenly. Still, I had nowhere else to go, and so I stayed there for a while.

I did odd jobs to build up a small amount of caps, and slept in this filthy place known as the common house. But I could stay there for free, so I didn't care too much. And when I built up some more confidence, I started exploring nearby places, such as the Metro Tunnels. I found better equipment just lying around, brought it back to town, and had it fixed up to use. My favorite quickly became the chinese assault rifle, and I took it everywhere with me. I also invested money in this really awesome weapon called the "fat man." It launched little things called mini nukes, and while I had a few of them, I didn't want to waste one as they were apparently extremely rare. It was more of a collector's item for me, at the time.

I ran into my fair share of raiders and other jerk-offs, too. And I didn't hesitate to kill them, either. It felt good. It was such a relief to just grind somebody's face into the dirt with the heel of your shoe, after all those years of taking shit from everyone in the vault. Back then, there was nothing I could do - but out here, with no stupid Overseer ruling with an iron fist, and no bloody guards, I could finally fight back. My confidence was exploding. I felt great. Finally, people knew me and respected me. And some of them even liked me.

One day after a successful venture, I sat down across from Gob, as I often did. While exploring and making caps was a lot of fun, I got pretty lonely some days. Especially the ones where I didn't make it back to Megaton, and had to camp out there. I'd just finished telling him about all of my recent adventures and run out of things to talk about, when I said, "Where did you come from, anyway? Before falling in with the bad luck and whatnot."

He sighed and made a strange, far-away face. "There's this place called Underworld, in DC. It's in the old Museum of History, and it's where a bunch of other ghouls live. I left there trying to find adventure, and all I found was this." He shook his head and offered me up another soda. I hastily took it and unscrewed the cap before lightly tossing it to him. It was a habit I'd picked up after my first few visits to the saloon, and it was okay as long as Gob's prick boss, Moriarty wasn't around to see. Otherwise he'd start screaming at Gob as soon as he thought I was out of earshot. And that pissed me right the fuck off. Moriarty and I probably could have been pals, if he didn't treat Gob like a piece of trash.

"Ghoul city," I repeated, grinning to myself. "You think I could find like a partner there?"

"A partner?" He looked at me strangely. "Whaddaya mean?"

"You know, like, a person who would be willing to get out and explore with me. An accomplice." I smiled. "A partner in crime. Or something. I can't do everything by myself, I mean, I'm pretty awesome, but what if I get outgunned?" I gloated merrily.

He shrugged awkwardly and went back to rubbing the counter. I pretended I didn't notice. "Think you could tell me how to get there?" I asked with a pouty face, something that often won Amata over in the past. I mentally slapped myself for thinking about her again.

Gob nodded reluctantly and leaned over the counter. "Okay, so here's what you've gotta do..." He explained to me the safest and quickest route to Underworld and added, "But please be careful, Min, you're one of the few friends I've got, and I don't want to lose you."

I grinned at him like a cat and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself!" True, that contradicted half of the reasons I wanted a partner in the first place (the other half of course being that I was just plain lonely sometimes), but what else could I tell him?

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I blew a bubble with the gum I'd been chewing for about an hour, looking up at the huge fake skull above the door to the small ghoul settlement known as Underworld. Travelling through the metro tunnels and sewers had been easy enough, but long and boring. There was nothing to do, save for killing the occasional feral ghoul or mole rat family.

Oh, yeah, feral ghouls. This had been my first encounter with them. Ugly jerks, they were. Skinnier than fuck and falling apart much more than their sane counterparts. They had none of that cute puppy look that Gob had, and attacked anything that wasn't another ghoul on sight. Any humanity they ever had was long gone. So, I felt no remorse popping their heads off with my favorite gun. It was kind of fun watching their brains paint the walls.

So now I was in the Museum of History, and up ahead was the entrance to Underworld. The trip had been so quiet that I was just dying to talk to somebody. Anybody. So I cracked my neck, blew another bubble, almost got the gum stuck in my hair, and entered the double doors to Underworld.


	3. My Name Is

Once inside, I saw a myriad of depression-ridden ghouls wandering about. Some of them sent me suspicious glances, like because I wasn't a ghoul I was just going to go and start trouble. The lighting was darker than most places in Megaton, and the air was stuffy and thick with a mildly unpleasant tinge to it that one would probably get over in time. There were doors to the left and to the right, and in back. On either side were sets of stairs, and I opted to take them instead of exploring the first level.

I noticed a ghoul with a full head of hair leaning against the back wall. He was also decked out in shades and a pair of silk pajamas. He had a radio next to him and inhaled a little jet as he stared at nothing in particular. Intrigued, I approached him with a catty smile.

"Hellooo," I said in what I hoped sounded like a friendly tone as opposed to an obnoxious one. He twitched and looked at me, obviously startled.

"Oh, hey toots. How're you?" he asked, turning his radio down a smidge and checking me over curiously.

"Fine, fine. This is my first time in Underworld," I explained. This seemed to be going well so far.

"Yeah, it's all right here. Takes care of my needs just fine. 'Xcept these ghouls have no hair. I'm a hair stylist, how the heck am I supposed to do my job when I have less than half a head to work with," he complained, shaking his head. "If you want, I'll give you a cut. No charge. But if you ask me, your hair already looks pretty spiff."

I laughed. "Thanks, but I don't think I want my hair cut right now, anyway. If it gets too long, I'll come back here and pay you a visit. I'm Minion, you are?"

"Snowflake," he said, and shook my already outstretched hand. "Ghouls must not bother you much, eh? Most smoothskins can't even stand to look at us, let alone touch us."

I shrugged. "I think ghouls are neat. I have a ghoul friend back in Megaton who told me about this place. I came 'cause I wanted to meet more ghouls like him. He's a real sweetheart," I said, echoing the words of Nova, the girl Moriarty whored out to his hotel patrons (literally).

"Wish there were more people around like you, Minion. I used to live in Rivet City, but when I started to change, hell, they didn't want me around. Not many people do. Reminds them of death or something," he grumbled, and took another whiff of jet.

"How is that stuff, anyway?" I tossed a curious glance to the chem.

He gave me a look like I'd just asked him why all the trees were dead. "You've never tried jet? What, did you grow up in a cave?"

I grinned and shrugged. Oh, irony. "Never felt the desire. But now my curiosity is driving me up the wall. What's it like?"

He chuckled and closed his eyes for a moment. "Wanna try some? I've got a couple more around here, I'll let you have one for free, just 'cause you amuse me, Minion."

"Sure, I'd love to try some."

A few minutes later I was giggling uncontrollably and bouncing around like a moron. Snowflake laughed along with me, or at me, I'm not sure, but nonetheless I was pretty damn stoked. "Say buddy, is there any place I can go to get a drink around this hole?" I snickered, trying in vain to settle down.

"Sure, right over there is The Ninth Circle. That's where I go."

"Thanks man!" I giggled, and practically skipped into the bar.


	4. A Transfer

(Charon's POV)

A weird little smoothskin girl popped in the bar, obviously tweaking off of something. Bouncing around like she had ants in her pants. Very pale skin, compared to what I was used to seeing, and light blond hair. Probably got some jet off that lousy junkie Snowflake. She had a chinese assault rifle strapped to her back, but it was hard to believe a little thing like her could defend herself. How the hell she even made it to Underworld if she was by herself like it looked, was beyond me.

She went straight over to Ahzrukhal, talking a mile a freaking minute about how much she liked ghouls and this place and how her dad was a jerk, then she asked for a Nuka-Cola, after spitting something into a trash can. I crossed my arms and shifted my feet, doing my best to tune her out. Ahzrukhal just laughed at her and listened to her ramble. After a while her high wore off and she smiled this dumb smile and guzzled down her second bottle of Nuka-Cola.

Eventually she looked at me from her spot on the stool and turned back to Ahzrukhal. Some gabbering later, she started shelling out a lot of caps. I couldn't help but watch. The hell was she doing? Ahzrukhal passed her something, but I couldn't see what. Had she just bought out his whole stock of chems?

She grinned at him, said something else, tossed her Nuka Cola bottle in the trash, and I got a feeling something interesting was about to happen as she started walking towards me. She popped something in her mouth and started chewing. "Talk to Ahzrukhal," I snapped, as I always did when someone new approached me.

She just laughed and shook her head. She reached into one of the pouches on her belt and pulled out a piece of paper. My eyes widened. This was the last thing I would have expected.

"I bought your contract. It's nice to meet you, Charon." I checked the paper. She wasn't lying; that was my contract all right. Well, this was going to be interesting, at the least.

"I see. And you are?" It was custom to ask the name of my employer at the time of transfer.

"Minion. Buuut you can call me Mistress if you want," she laughed, grinning ear to ear. She'd said "if you want," but as I had learned through employment with Ahzrukhal, that was just code talk for "do it or else." My mouth twitched a little, but I don't think she noticed. She was far too giddy.

"Very well. There's something I must take care of. Please be patient for a moment." And I went over to Ahzrukhal and said goodbye. But that sounds a lot nicer than it actually was. In reality I blasted his rat face away with a single shell from my shotgun. The other patrons of the bar gasped and backed away, muttering their own thoughts on the matter. I didn't give a damn what any of them had to say, they wouldn't do anything about it.

I returned to the Mistress, expecting her to freak or at least look a little bit queasy, but she just about doubled over with laughter. I began to second guess whether the drugs had worn off her or if she was just plain sadistic.

"Wow, nice one! I see you have a temper on you, Charon." She paused to laugh a little, then smiled at me. I felt a bit uneasy. I hoped this girl wouldn't turn out to be anything like Ahzrukhal.

"He deserved it. I was doing the world a favour by ending him."

"That's what I like, delivering your own kind of justice as you see fit. That's what the world should be like. People would be a lot happier if we just did exactly as we pleased." She blew a rather large bubble with the gum she had apparently been chewing. This girl seemed like nothing more than a bent flake, but her words did merit a bit of truth to them. Okay, so she was completely right, but it definitely wasn't for the best. The world needed some kind of order.

"So from what I understand," she started, motioning for me to follow her out of the bar, "you will do anything I want you to do without question. That's all fine and dandy, actually that's really fucking awesome to be exact, but to be honest, I want you to tell me when you're upset, or disagree with something I want you to do."

"Do you now?" That was a new one. None of my previous employers ever wanted me to speak my mind. They would command, and I would obey. What did this girl want to know my opinions, for?

"Yep. Your happiness is important to me. So, speak up, whenever you feel like it. Also, I don't want to end up like old Ahzrukhal if you ever fall out of my unemployment for some unfortunate reason. I want you to enjoy your time with me."

"If I may, Mistress, enjoying isn't something I'm prone to doing."

She just laughed and said, "In due time, buddy. In due time."

She had to be insane.

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A/N: I do so love it when Charon calls the LW "Mistress." It just makes me smile. I've seen it done before and it seemed like it fit well. It's kinda mean, but it grew on me.


	5. Substances

A/N: Another extended chapter - and the only one with two POVs because of it. Almost makes me want to reupload everything the way it's supposed to be. Anyway you can't really skip any part of this, it doesn't work too well.

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(Charon's POV)

We were in that disgusting common room, situated on two mattresses that had been previously unclaimed. The Mistress was sleeping to my left. It didn't take her long at all to conk out. I was in no mood to sleep; I was finally free of Ahzrukahl's command, and I was eager to see what this new employer was going to be like. Would we travel and do whatever, as she seemed to want, or would we go back to some house and spend hour upon hour cooped up miserably and never see action again?

At least I could complain to her about it.

Then again, maybe she'd get tired of me and tell me to shut up. Still, I didn't want that to happen. Free speech was the closest thing to free will any of my employers had ever given me. So what made this girl different? She was probably just bonkers, but I'd find out in time. For now, all she was going to do was sleep. Me, I didn't need as much sleep as the average person. Escpecially not after a change like this. I was more than ready to step out that door and emerge out under that enormous sky.

Hours passed and eventually I began to feel just the slightest bit tired. I made sure my shotgun was loaded and ready before I laid back and closed my eyes. After what seemed like an eternity, I fell into the black, dreamless abyss I always entered when I slept. Well, almost always...

I awoke approximately four hours later. Unsurprisingly, the Mistress was still asleep. I say up and looked around the crowded room. Nothing had changed since I'd fallen asleep. No, scratch that, two other people who'd been sleeping on the floor had left at some point.

I waited for her to wake up. There weren't many other things I could do, at the moment. She had not instructed me to wake her up, and there was no reason to otherwise. About an hour passed before she stirred, and groggily sat up. She'd been drooling all over the left side of her face, and her hair was matted with sweat. Kind of hard not to sweat like that, when you sleep in a filthy place like this.

"Nnng... uh... what time is it?" she asked, wiping her face with the back of her left arm. I noticed that there was an odd sort of computerized wristband on it. It had several knobs and a black screen with bright blue words and pictures on it.

"I do not have a clock," I admitted.

She blinked slowly and looked down at the screen of her arm computer. "Nine forty-two," she slurred before yawning loudly. I watched her curiously. What else could that screen tell her? She stood up and stretched tremendously. I got to my feet as well. "Guess it's time to start packing up and going," she said, looking down at the bedding.

"Would you like me to take care of that?"

She grinned and gave me the thumbs up. "Go for it!" She watched me lazily as I quickly rolled up and packed away the bedding. Afterwords, she took the bag from me and slung it over her shoulders, although I would have carried it for her. But she didn't ask, and seemed fine enough lugging it around herself.

"We can eat on the way," she said, and I followed her out of the room. "I need some air. This place has no ventilation, you know," she yammered. On the way out, people steered clear of us. There probably wasn't a single person in Underworld that hadn't heard about Ahzrukhal yet.

Outside the sky was still fairly dim. The sun wasn't very high, and the mountains were blocking most of the light from it. The air was warm but comfortable and there was a slight breeze. The Mistress's armband must have had a radio in it, because when she messed with it this time, that Galaxy News station started playing. We set out into the wastes after that, and only she had any idea where we were going.

She began to dig through a section of her bag. "So, I've got some old apples, some iguana jerky, and some snack cakes."

The breakfast of champions.

"Want the meat?" she asked, holding it out before me. I hesitantly took it and looked it over. It didn't look too bad, but still.

"Is this what you've been living off of?" I said, pulling apart a chunk with my fingers.

She took a greedy bite of a snack cake. No wonder she was so unstable, living off this shit and Nuka-Cola could probably drive anyone crazy. "Well, yeah," she said through a mouthful. "Between towns and shtuff."

I shook my head. "You should be eating more than just leftovers from pre-war times. If you wish, I can show you how to prepare animals."

"Ohh yuck," she said with a wrinkled nose, although she was grinning at me, "that's so gross! Hehe." She took another bite. "Sounds like a good idea though."

We went on like this for a few hours, and eventually were attacked by the inevitable mole rat. I showed her the proper way to skin it and remove the meat, clean it off, and prepare it. After that meal we decided to dry the rest of the meat so it could safely be consumed later. And we continued on again, her radio playing most of the time, and occasionally she'd try to strike up conversation out of boredom.

A couple days passed and her mood seemed to get worse and worse until she was all but silent and didn't even bother to turn on the radio. Not much had happened in that span of time, and she seemed to only be travelling randomly. She didn't say why, and I had no intentions of asking her.

She was preoccupied. Hadn't said a thing all morning. I was beginning to wonder what was going on in her head. We'd spent the previous night in an old house somewhere west of that Megaton place she mentioned a couple times. Now we were outside. I was leaning against the house, watching her; looking out for danger. She was a couple dozen feet ahead, facing away from me. On the ground was a pile of baseballs she'd found, and she had been hitting them far into the horizon without a word. Probably depressed or something. Maybe she was trying to nail a bloatfly. Sometimes she'd reach into her bag and take what looked like a bottle of vodka out, toss a little back, and drop it again.

After a while she ran out of baseballs to hit. It was sometime in the afternoon, getting dark. We hadn't really done anything at all that day, other than this. The Mistress dropped her bat and let it clatter to the dirt. For a few minutes she just stared ahead, and I was contemplating approaching her and asking her if she was all right. Eventually, she gave it up her staring contest with nature and returned to me.

"Yes?" I asked. For a minute she didn't say anything. Her face was awfully blank. I could tell she was at least a little drunk.

"Charon, I don't know what to do," she sighed.

"Perhaps you should follow your own advice, and do as you please," I offered.

"I don't know what I want to do," she said.

"Tired of exploring already?"

"I don't know."

"Perhaps I could help you more if I knew what was troubling you." Not that I much cared, but it was part of my job.

So we went back into the house and pulled out some of that dried mole rat for a late lunch or early dinner. She turned on that radio of hers real low before she started to eat. "All right, you wanna know what's bothering me? ...I'm not from here," she said, and I raised what was left of my eyebrow. "I'm from a vault..." She told me about how and why she was kicked out, and how she missed her friends and her father, but at the same time she was very angry with him and didn't really want to ever see him again.

But I could tell that she did. A lot of people lie to themselves like that. Makes it a little easier to go on, sometimes.

"Do you still want to know my opinion on the matter?" I took a bite of the tough meat and swallowed. She nodded vigorously. At least she was starting to show a little life. "I think you should seek out your father." She frowned at me. Well, she asked. "I believe you would feel better if you could speak to him." She shrugged.

"Maybe. Maybe not. I'm not so sure I want to find out what was going through his head when he decided to leave me." She inhaled some jet and popped some gum into her mouth. She seemed to perk up a little.

"Have you realized how much you do that stuff?" I asked, fairly certain this was something I should bring to her attention. For health reasons, of course.

"What stuff?" she snapped, giving me a weird look. Ugh. Was she completely oblivious to her own actions?

"Drinking. Jet. Even gum. You always have to be putting something into your body." Perhaps I was crossing the line by pointing this out. Perhaps I should not bring it up again unless it becomes a major problem.

"Nuh uh," she grumbled, finishing off her meat and wiping her hands on her pants.

"You do it more often then you realize."

She stared at the ceiling, thoughtfully. "It's not that bad. I'm not hurting myself, right?" I think she was asking herself, rather than me. Either way, didn't seem like she actually cared too much. She huffed some more jet and smiled as the high took over. "Come on, Charon, let's go."

My first thought was "go where?" but I'm sure even she didn't know the answer to that.

"Are you certain you wish to travel at this time of day?" I asked.

"There's nothing wrong with going in the dark," the Mistress said, standing up and crossing her arms. "You run into less people, right? I've gone lots of places in the dark."

It was a miracle this girl had survived this long already.

"People, yes. Creatures, no. Some are even more plentiful at night than during the day. Some also posess superior night vision and would have a specific advantage over us."

She just frowned and glared silently down at me, her face reddening a little.

"I'll pack up our things."

She threw a silent mini temper tantrum and sighed roughly. After a moment she smiled at me and laughed. "Okay, okay. We'll leave tomorrow, then. I guess I was getting carried away."

I stared at her quizzically for a moment. "Very well."

She stayed up a bit later, and eventually returned upstairs to sleep in the same bed she'd slept in the previous night. I kept my spot downstairs by the entrance, in case some unwelcome visitor decided to show. It was unlikely, but safety was far more important than comfort, so I opted to set up my bedding on the living room floor instead of on the second bed upstairs.

----------

(Minion's POV)

Seek out my father. Seek out my father? Was he nuts?! Why would I want to do that? The jerk had left me of his own free will, with no warning beforehand. He probably didn't want anything to do with me. But, at the same time...

I shook my head like someone trying to get rid of a bad dream. No. It's all his fault. I snuggled down into my blankets up to my nose. Stupid dad. Well, I would not seek him out. I didn't feel like wasting the time, and, more importantly, I had to make something of myself. Tomorrow morning me and Charon would go out into the wastes again - no more sulking in dusty old pre-war houses - and wander around until something interesting happened.


	6. Hey There, Red

(Minion's POV)

"Look at them down there, all smug and stupid," I said, staring through the scope of a magnum. I'd stuck true to my word for once, and we'd left the house right after a small bite to eat the next morning and a bit of jet to help me get going.

We seemed to be at the edge of a sort of circular canyon with a raider camp inside of it, called Evergreen Mills. There was an old factory, a few sloppy metal shacks scattered about, an ancient train, and some kind of big fenced-off pen or something. "There sure are a lot of them."

"Well, it is a camp," Charon said, as if I had missed the big picture.

"You're right," I replied, with dripping sarcasm. "Gee, if only I'd known that before." I dropped the mockery in my voice. "Raiders piss me right the fuck off. You know, I've killed dozens, I think I can handle them."

"But have you ever fought so many at once?" asked my companion, giving me a "think through this" type of glare.

"Well, no, but..." I grinned demoniacally, and took a very special weapon out of my bag. I had purchased it off a travelling merchant before my trip to Underworld. Charon's yellowish eyes almost popped out of his head as he saw me place a mini-nuke inside of it. I slung it over my shoulder and continued to grin defiantly at him. It was heavy as hell, and I hoped I didn't look like I was about to topple over, because that would have made me feel pretty stupid.

"What in the hell is that?" he murmured, probably deeply in awe or something. Yeah, I have that affect on people.

"This, my good friend, is a fat man. It's devastating beyond anyone's worst nightmares. It launches mini-nukes. Mini fucking nukes," I crooned, cupping free hand like a Deathclaw for deadly emphasis.

"You're goddamned insane, Mistress. But at least you're happy when you think about killing," he grumbled. Seemed like he was enjoying speaking his mind.

The end of my tongue slipped past my lips ever so slightly; an old habit when I was feeling rebellious and annoyed. I turned back to face the raider camp. They were doing the things that raiders do, like fighting each other to the death for no reason, laughing hysterically at some dumb brahmin joke, shooting up some psycho, and so on. They looked like ants from up here. No, not the dog-sized mutant ants, the little ones. They still existed. I'd been bitten by one not too long before, actually. Uh, anyway...

"I don't have much ammo for this thing," I admitted, looking for the largest cluster of raiders I could find, "only about four or five minis. But watch this!" Charon took a deep breath and held it as I clumsily shot the mini nuke, praying to whatever that I wouldn't miss and look like an idiot.

It flew miraculously through the air, towards the raiders down below. It was as if time slowed down, and I was holding my breath too. After what seemed like forever, it reached its target.

It hit the clump of raiders dead-on, which I admitted to myself was nothing more than a lucky shot on my part. The explosion was glorious. I had never shot my fat man before, and this was the biggest fucking boom I had seen since beginning my life outside of the vault. Or inside of the vault, for that matter. The mushroom cloud it left behind was almost as spectacular. I stared at my work, mouth agape, smiling crookedly.

Charon yanked me on my back by grabbing my collar. I stared up at him with a blank, disoriented look. He glared back down at me angrily. "Do you want them to see you?" he growled.

I laughed and shrugged, and he shook his head and groaned deeply at my inappropriate reaction. He was now lying flat on his stomach, the tip of his head peering over the canyon to observe the aftermath. Shaking a bit from the incredible awesomeness of my attack, I joined him.

The raiders were flipping shit, flitting around like confused radroaches when someone just kicked them twenty feet into the air. Luckily, they hadn't seen us from our little perch. I laughed as maniacally as I could whilst still being relatively quiet. "Let's go down there and show them a good time," I said, withdrawing from possible sight and digging out my chinese assault rifle.

Charon gave me another "you're stupid, you fucking basket case" look. "Are you kidding? Look at you, you're shaking like a leaf. Even if you could aim a gun straight you'd pull the trigger too soon. Probably blow your own head off, or even worse, mine."

But I had to. This was my first step towards becoming somebody. It had to be done.

"Hey, there, Red," I said with a small, almost-sane smile, "you can trust me."


	7. Some Kind Of Nickname?

(Charon's POV)

Red? Was she referring to my hair or my broken skin? And why bother? Nicknames are for close pals, not bodyguards. That aside, the way she was staring down at me, standing perfectly straight, gun over her shoulder, hair tussled by the breeze...

And that smile. Damn that smile of hers. It wasn't an act of kindness; it was a weapon. The Mistress had a strange, manipulative nature about her, and it perplexed me. I began to think, even if I did have complete free will, I still would have helped her anyway, just because of that fucking smile.

"Let's go," I said plainly, standing up from my crouching position and readying my combat shotgun. She nodded and we looked around for the entrance to the camp. We silently left our spot and walked down the long way to the bottom of the canyon. It was easy to sneak around with all of the old train cars just sitting there, unused since pre-war times. The raiders were beginning to calm down from their frenzy, but they still remained suspicious, searching the area with their eyes to find wherever that ridiculous blast had originated from. The ground was blackened in a large circle where the Mistress had launched her explosive. There was absolutely nothing left of the bodies that were hit by the blast.

We were now as close as we could get without being spotted. The Mistress pulled out a frag grenade, pulled the tab and held it for a moment, and threw it hard at a group of four raiders. "Fuck!" screamed one who saw it coming. But they had no time to run. It detonated as soon as it hit the ground, and dismembered body parts rained everywhere.

Unfortunately, this blew our cover entirely.

The Mistress didn't seem to care, as she went out, guns blazing, shooting people left and right, grinning like a freaking psychopath. The raiders were too frenzied to put up much of a fight. The few who did have guns seemed to be having a bad case of poor aim, and the others either ran or stupidly came at us with their melee weapons held high. I joined her side, picking off my share, and making sure no one got too close to her. With a lightning-quick motion she inhaled some jet and replaced it into her bag. She was twitching a little, barely hitting her targets, but moving faster than ever.

There was a loud smash from behind us. I took a quick glance at it and resumed shooting. There was a large pen. A large pen with something just as large inside of it. Thrashing around like nobody's business.

But the Mistress was distracted. She had been staring at it, transfixed, for just a second too long. Before I could do anything, a raider cracked her in the back of the head with a lead pipe.

"No!" I breathed.

She went down like a swatted fly. I shot that raider right through the neck and he, too, fell down.

Standing defensively over my unconscious employer, I killed off the remaining few raiders. Behind me I heard another noise. I felt a dreadful feeling in the pit of my stomach as I spun around, and saw that one last, dying raider had opened the pen. He coughed up some blood and grinned weakly at me before he collapsed and his eyes glazed over.

The gate opened and I was faced with the biggest super mutant I had ever seen. Easily twenty feet tall, and five times as ugly as any normal mutie. He growled at me; a deep, rumbling sound that caused the ground at my feet to shake. Slowly he started lumbering towards us. Realizing that speed and wits would be my advantage here, I scooped up the Mistress and booked it. If I could lose him long enough to hide for a bit, I could think of something.

I wove my way through the train cars, quick on my feet as I could be, until I came to a little shack. I ran around behind it and set down the Mistress, positive that I had lost him for the time being. He was stumbling around angrily, growing more pissed off every second he didn't see me. But what the hell could I do? Maybe make a run for it... but what if this thing left the canyon? What if it started attacking settlements? That could result in the death of too many innocents.

I stared at the girl. A spray of blood had shot out of her nose and decorated her face when she had been hit. I checked her pulse. Still alive. Damn her recklessness and her stupid, fucking smile.

And then it hit me.

In all of the hectic shit that had been going down ever since she came up with this suicidal idea, I'd forgotten about that ridiculous launcher she had. Surely that could kill this monstrosity. If not, well, we were screwed. The behemoth let out a horrible wail. I pulled out the fat man and the remaining mini nukes. I wasn't sure how many it would take, or exactly how hard it was to aim with this thing.

I imitated the way she had held it when she used it, and, standing up to my full height, I stepped out from behind the shack. The monster still hadn't seen me. I used this time to remember how she had done it. Then, when I was sure I had it, I aimed right for it's feet, and...

Missed. It only got about half the blow. It appeared to be damaged considerably, but now it was hunkering towards me, rage and pain set on it's mangled green face. Keeping my cool even though my heart was pounding, I loaded it with another mini nuke and aimed once more. If it got too close, it would all be over.

But this time I succeeded. Its arms and legs were torn from its body, and dark green blood splattered the area. The blast that pushed me back a little was hot and unpleasant, and I realized that I had been a little to close to it for comfort. I decided I really didn't like this weapon, and I would tell the Mistress as soon as she woke up... If she woke up...

I looked down at her once more and sighed. Stupid girl.


	8. Wow, I'm Not Dead Yet

(Minion's POV)

Thirsty. That was the first basic thought that formed in my mind when I started to come to. I was thirstier than I'd ever been in my entire freaking life. It felt like my mouth was stuffed with cotton balls, and my throat was so dry I couldn't even come close to swallowing. When I opened my eyes (or at least I thought they were open) all I could see was black. I tried to make noise, but I couldn't hear anything, so I had no clue if I was successful or not.

I began to wonder if I was dead. Then I figured, "nahh, being dead wouldn't be this boring," and "I'm sure if I was dead I wouldn't be this fucking thirsty." I don't know how long I laid there, unable to do anything, but after what felt like an eternity I felt a something gentle on my forehead. I thought I heard something too, very far away. And then it got louder, and clearer, until I heard Charon speaking.

My vision began to come back, too, ever so slowly. I had a killer headache and the light in our surroundings was making it even worse. My ghoul was sitting beside me, saying words and probably sentences but they weren't registering. I waited for the blur to go but mildly blurry was apparently the best I was going to get.

"...thought you were a goner," I heard him say.

"Hhhhhhh," I wheezed, in a very poor attempt to stir up some conversation. Then I coughed a lot. We were apparently inside a building or something. I wished he'd board up the windows.

"Let me get you some water." He turned around and pulled a bottle of purified water from his bag and faced me again. Very carefully he put his arm under my back and head and lifted me up to help me drink. I felt like one of those really old people from the vault that had to others do everything for them, and I didn't like it.

But still, the water felt amazing. Like the same amount of satisfaction you get after a really awesome orgasm. I drank as much as I could before Charon pulled the bottle away from me. I didn't have the strength to glare at him for it.

"Stop that, you're going to choke. You can have more in a while." He set me back down on whatever it was I was lying on, and started wiping my face with a blood-stained cloth. I wondered and hoped that it was my blood, because otherwise, yuck.

I tried to talk again but all that came out was a whisper. I kept going with it, mouthing nothing more than gibberish really, until I got a small murmur working. "Ch, Charon."

"Yes?"

"What happened?"

"You suggested we shoot up a raider camp. Then you got knocked in the back of the head, and I had to kill a giant super mutant with your nuke blaster. You've been out for a day and a half. Do you remember anything?"

A raider camp? Nope. Didn't remember. That bit about him and my fat man sounded kind of funny though. But must have happened; snide as Charon often was, I don't think he would make up something like that.

I shook my head. Not a big motion, but the best I could muster.

"I treated your wounds to the best of my abilities, but I'm afraid I'm lacking in medical knowledge. I'm more the killing type," he explained. I rolled my eyes, then winced as my head proceeded to throb. "Hurts, doesn't it? Maybe now you won't be so eager to try to get us killed."

"Ffffffffft," I said.

"Still, we are going to have to get you a doctor as soon as you are well enough to travel. There might be permanent damage to your head. I doubt this will work to your benefit in the future, so it's probably best we get it fixed as soon as possible."

"Probably," I agreed. "Where are we, anyway?"

"Some kind of garage. Near the raider camp, but I don't think we have to worry about them coming to get us... You look like you're in pain," he commented. Pointer-outer-of-the-obvious.

"Med-X me up, Captain!" I exclaimed, in a voice that was in reality not even as loud as my normal voice.

"As you wish."


	9. I'm Fine, Really

I spent the next day resting and after that I actually had enough energy and balance to get up and move around. Charon told me I should spend another day taking it easy but this lying in bed all day thing was way too boring, and the Med-X took away most of the aching anyway.

"Nothing in here, huh?" I asked, wandering into the back room of the building, which was apparently an old garage. Charon kept a close eye on me, watching for any indications that I might suddenly collapse.

"There were some mole rats, but I disposed of them prior to bringing you in."

"Left me out on the dirt, then? Bitchin'," I huffed as I looked around the empty place. There were some shelves with a bit of junk on them, and some old kind of motorized bicycle, but nothing else, really. That is, till I noticed the switch on the wall that stuck out like a sore thumb. "Oooh, hey, Red, look at this!"

"Mistress, perhaps you shouldn't touch that," he warned. "It could be a trap."

"Nahh, I don't think so. A trap wouldn't be so painfully obvious. Traps are usually hidden. Sometimes." I gripped the switch, pretty sure that nothing would happen anyway and I'd just feel let down and sulk for a while. But when I pulled it down, mechanical sounds filled the room. Charon drew his weapon and my eyes darted all around, but the sound seemed to be coming from right under us. Or rather, right in front of us.

Then the floor opened up to reveal a set of stairs leading into the basement. "Nifty!" I exclaimed. "A secret passage!"

"Do you want me to make sure it's safe? You aren't exactly in prime condition yet. I believe it will take a while before you can fight again."

I took out my chinese assault rifle and wrinkled my nose. "I'm fine, really. Honestly. What could be down there? I'm sure it's nothing."

"At least let me go in ahead of you," he persisted.

I sighed. "All right, if you're that worried about it."

He nodded, and, weapon ready, descended down the stairs. I followed him closely. There was a hiss as a mole rat bounded towards us, but it went down with a single shot. We reached the bottom of the stairs and went through an open doorway. I was completely shocked at what I saw.

"Charon," I breathed, my jaw hanging open, "do you know what this is?"

He sniffed. "Not particularly."

"This is a vault! You know, like the one I came from. Vault 112?" I read on the door. It was like deja vu, except... "The door's already open..." I turned to face him urgently. He stiffened in mild surprise at the change in tone of my voice. "We have to go explore it! Who knows what or who's inside? My curiosity is killing me!"

"If that is what you wish," he said, "Although I'd rather we didn't. I see little point in it."

I ignored him. I had told him to give his opinion on things, but that didn't mean I had to take it into account all the time.

We entered the vault, him in front once again. A robobrain was around the corner, waiting for us. Charon wanted to shoot it, but I stopped him because it didn't appear to be hostile. It acted as if we were residents that had arrived about 200 years late, and handed us Vault 112 jumpsuits, telling us to go do something with a lounger, whatever that was.

"I am not putting this on," said Charon firmly.

"Eh, I never said you had to," I replied, putting away my weapon. Charon decided to keep his out, and he ditched the jumpsuit on the floor. We walked into the main area. This vault was just as clean as Vault 101 when I left it, but the only inhabitants seemed to be a few robobrains scattered about that incessantly suggested we put on the suits and enter our tranquillity loungers. Down on the first floor of the atrium were strange pods positioned in a circle around some kind of large computer. Each pod had its own little terminal assigned to it.

"What the fuck is all this...?" I asked, walking slowly around the pods. Each pod appeared to be holding a person, but it was nearly impossible to see anything other than their silhouette through the dark glass. Two of the pods were empty.

"I don't like the looks of this," grumbled Charon, eyeing the pods suspiciously.

"Me either," I agreed, "but my overwhelming desire to check this shit out doesn't care."

He looked at me like I was crazy. "You're not actually going to get into one of those things, are you? What if you can't get out?"

I smiled. "If I don't come out within twenty-four hours, then it's up to you to rescue me." He stared uneasily back at me.

"Understood."

I started undressing so I could change into the Vault 112 suit. Charon stared for a moment, then probably remembered that was rude, and started messing with his shotgun.

I pushed the only button I could see on the strange pod and the glass upper-shell opened up. I tried to block out the nervous feeling in my gut as I climbed inside. The shell began to close, and I felt very strange...


	10. This Is Unfair

(Charon's POV)

I did not like this idea at all. It was clearly another suicidal move on the Mistress's part, because if she didn't come out like she planned, well... I wasn't good with computers.

When that thing closed up she appeared to fall asleep, almost instantly. It was highly unnerving to see her go so still so suddenly. I almost wanted to break her out of there right then, but her order had been to leave her be for no less than twenty-four hours. Which meant I'd have to stay here, with these ancient robots who made demands that I did not approve of. Maybe they'd just randomly start attacking me because I didn't get in a pod. Well, it's not like they'd be much of a threat for me, but still...

A couple hours went by and I was at my breaking point. I knew she had ordered me to stay put, but in certain circumstances my contract required me to act on my own for the safety of the employer. I figured, given this situation it was more than appropriate for me to act. I went over to the terminal of the lounger she was in, but I couldn't make sense of the damn thing. Pushing the button did absolutely nothing. There was no way it was going to let her out.

I peered inside the glass, but it was difficult to see her. Pounding on the glass did nothing, and it seemed unbreakable. Probably for the better, because if I had been able to break it, she'd have woke up with a face full of shards.

I really hated this. But I knew it was the only thing I could do.

I stomped back to the spot I had discarded my jumpsuit and changed into it. This is idiotic. You're never coming out of there, you know. I ignored my own thoughts and hopped up inside the evil machine. I watched the idle robots suspiciously as the egg-like lounger closed up around me. But I was distracted as I began to feel numb, stupid, and tired...


	11. This Is Insane

When I could think properly again, I found myself in a very... black and white world. Literally. It was like a dream. The wasteland was gone, and the ground was _covered_ in grass. The trees had _leaves_ and the buildings were_ intact_ and untouched by the ravages of time. There were clean people in clean pre-war style clothes and the air smelled... well, it smelled _good._ There also didn't seem to be a way out of this place. It was circular, and in the center was a playground. I was perplexing over all of this when I noticed something else was horribly, horribly wrong.

I was a lot closer to the ground than I was supposed to be.

I looked myself over and gaped. My arms were short, stubby. So were my legs. My feet were tiny. I was wearing some awful little boy's outfit, and my skin - was _not_ ghoul skin. I gasped to find that my voice was much smaller and squeakier than is should have been. I was a child again.

I did my best to make sure all of the people who looked at me saw the angriest, most unapproachable little smoothskin boy they had ever seen. In the center playground was another child, watering some strange plants. Figuring she would have an inkling as to what was going on, I stormed over to her.

"Hey," I started, and winced at my prepubescent voice.

The little girl in the sundress looked over at me and smiled happily. It pissed me off even more. "Why, hello there. I don't know who you are, but I'm glad there's someone new to play with. I'm Betty. And you?"

"Royally fucking pissed," I squeaked, utterly humiliated. "Why do I look like this? What the hell's going on?"

"Gosh, do you really have to use such _crude_ language?" asked Betty with a forlorn face. "You were a yucky person, so I made you easier on the eyes. Besides," she added with a sadistic laugh, "being a child's much more fun, wouldn't you say?"

"Cut the crap," I growled ineffectively, really missing my old, gravelly voice. "Where's the one called Minion?"

Betty sighed and frowned at me, disappointed. "That crazy girl, right? What would you want with her? She's _my_ friend. She's playing with _me."_

I took a deep breath and tried to choke my desire to pound her face in. This girl knew way more than she was letting on, and I figured she was calling the shots here. If I attacked her, who knew what would happen? I was already a fucking ten year old! She could probably turn me inside out if she wanted to. "She's _my_ Mistress."

Betty grinned at me. "Hah! Really? That's funny. Why would she want to hang around a nasty person like you? I had to make you better, but she doesn't have that luxury. Doesn't she get sick just looking at you?" asked the little bitch, pretending to seem sympathetic.

"Tell me where she is," I demanded, each word slow and forced.

The thing called Betty put on a mean face and examined its nails. "Fine. You want to know where she is so badly? She's at the Rockwells', doing me a favour. Go on, boy," she ordered as if I was a mutt, jabbing her finger in the direction of one of the houses, "Go get 'er!"

I glared at her with all the hatred in the world as I walked off, and I noticed a dog lying down near her, looking rather depressed. If she could change my form, certainly she could turn someone into a dog. I was almost glad I was a child, after making that connection.

I opened the door to the indicated house and stepped inside. I saw another little girl, talking to a grown woman. But this little girl was familiar, and I almost immediately knew it was my Mistress.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Rockwell, but your your husband has some really strange screws loose."

It was alarming to see her as a child, in the same frilly outfit as Betty, with a high-pitched, whiny voice. Almost as alarming as it was to be in that same position myself.

The woman looked down at her with terrified uncertainty. "But he wouldn't! Roger... he wouldn't... couldn't... How could he be so disgusting?!" And with that, she bolted past me, right out the door. The Mistress smiled to herself, and flinched when she saw me.

"Oh... hi... Can I help you? Did Betty send you?" she asked, cautiously.


	12. This Is Me

"Mistress, it's me."

Her face lit up with a smile. Not the Betty kind, the Mistress kind. The kind that I liked, and at the same time couldn't stand. Even though it was on the face of a child, it was still her smile. "Red? What are you doing here? Crap, I didn't recognize you at all! You look... weird." She walked over to me, trying to take this embarrassing version of me in.

"I know your orders were for me to wait for you, but I couldn't. I perceived the situation to be much more dangerous than you thought. I was afraid you were dying in here. At certain times my contract allows me to-"

"Yeah, yeah. Listen, it doesn't really matter. I'm kind of glad you came. This place is hilarious, isn't it?" she cut me off with a large grin. My eyes almost closed in the sneer I pulled.

"It's a circus. Can we go, now?" I pleaded.

"Is that what you looked like when you were a child?" she asked, changing the subject.

"I don't know. I can't see my own face."

She grabbed my wrist and tugged slightly. "Come on, let's go over here." She led me into the bathroom, and there was a mirror. As soon as I noticed, I looked away stubbornly. She pouted at me. "It's just a mirror. What's wrong, Red?"

"I'd rather not. This isn't me. Even if it was a long time ago, it's not who I am now. I don't want to go back," I snapped. She drooped a little, like an dying plant.

"Oh. Okay. You don't have to look if you don't want to... But this is how I looked when I was a kid..." she said. I looked at her and she was trying to smile. Had I _actually_ hurt her feelings? She _had_ feelings? Damn this stupid crap. Damn it all.

Gritting my teeth, I looked at my reflection. And I froze. This boy, staring back at me... was me. I don't know how, but the machine, or Betty, or whatever, had gotten it right. The longish, shaggy red hair. Short, broad nose. Clear, blue-green eyes. It had been so long I thought I would have forgotten my own face, but there it was.

I wasn't aware of it, but I had moved closer to the mirror. With great effort I tore my eyes away. I swallowed hard and felt her hands on my shoulders. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made you look. I didn't mean it."

I shook my head, unable to get the image out. "You didn't make me. I looked because I wanted to. We should leave now. I really do not like this place."

The Mistress shook her head. "Can't. Betty won't let me leave. He said I have to do some crap first, then he'll let me and the dog leave. You too, I'm sure. If not, well, I'll have to do something about that."

"'He?'" I asked, throwing her off track as we left the Rockwells' bathroom.

"Hnn? Um, Betty's actually a guy. An old man. He pretends to be a girl, but every now and then he'll do this gross voice change and talk like his real self," she explained.

"What does _he_ want you to do?" I most certainly did not like the idea of someone ordering around my Mistress.

"You know, fun stuff. Make a little boy cry - actually, I felt a little bad about that - break up a marriage... That kind of stuff." We exited the house and started back towards the playground and Betty.

"Is that what you were doing just now?"

Betty waved at us as we approached.

"Yep, sure was. Betty appreciates my enthusiasm, so I think he'll let us out, soon," she finished.

"That was very entertaining!" crooned the Betty. "So much emotional awkwardness! I can't believe you thought of that! Pretending he wore girls' underwear. Haha! Simply wonderful." I cringed as Betty did that voice change the Mistress had mentioned.

"What now?" she asked, and Betty had a rotten glint in its eyes.


	13. All These People

(Minion's POV)

I pulled the items out of the dog house, just like Betty told me to. Charon was flexing his fingers in agitation. "Creepy clown mask and butcher knife; check," I said, grimacing at the ugly, sinister mask. It was like something from a pre-war horror film.

"Mistress, I do not like this at all," he tried yet again, but I was having a hard time taking his ten year old warnings seriously. "You are being used."

I put on the mask and gripped the knife in my hand. I felt stupid. I wished he'd stop pointing out the inevitable truth. "I know, Red. But there's nothing else I can do. Betty is invincible, and we've gotta play his games. Besides, I think this'll be fun."

He stared at me with a face so disturbed I felt like running around and going "booga booga boo!" just for the hell of it. But I repressed that urge for his sake.

"Killing innocent people? I didn't know you would go that far, Mistress..." And when he said that, boy did I feel bad. I took off the mask again and put the knife away.

"Hey, I wouldn't... This is just a simulation, Charon. They're not really going to _die_. Nobody can die, here. It's just going to look like they are. Betty will just get bored and revive them later. Wipe all their memories and play a new game. Take on a new look and name." At least, that's what Betty had told me. And I believed him, because what else could I do, here?

Charon looked back at me, and for once, we were at eye level with each other. It was strange. "Very well. If that is the case, then let's get it over with."

"Wait here - I'll be back when I'm done!" And I ran off, my face again concealed by that awful mask. I held the knife out in front of me as I sought out my victims. Betty watched with delight, and Charon turned away, as I chased after the first person who ran from me.

"It's the Pint-Sized Slasher!" he cried, voice shaking with terror. I followed him into a random house and burst inside behind him before he could latch the door. He wailed and took off into another room. A woman screamed and scrambled up the stairs. I cornered the man in the kitchen and grabbed a fistful of his hair in my hand. With a jerk of my wrist, his neck was openly displayed. He was crying now, artificial tears streaming down his face.

And suddenly I couldn't do it. It was all too realistic. This man, though probably not real, hadn't wronged me.

I let the knife clatter to the floor and backed away, watching the man sit there and babble to himself, staring at the ceiling. When my back hit the door I spun outside on my heel and slammed it closed. I ran towards Charon, and Betty called out to me angrily. I hurled the distasteful mask at the ground and rejoined my friend. Doubled over, I tried to catch my breath.

"Mistress?" he asked, not expecting me to return in such a manner.

"I couldn't do it," I murmured shamefully, straightening myself up. "I... it was too real. Damn, I wish I had some fucking jet right now."

Charon smirked at me. "I'm relieved. I knew you weren't a murderer." Ow. That stung a little. Actually it stung a lot. "But how are we going to get out of here?"

I scratched at my arm and made certain Betty wouldn't hear what I was about to say. "I forgot about it till now, but this crazy old woman told me about a fail-safe terminal. If I can activate that, I think we can get out."

"Where is this terminal?" he questioned, staring at me with what I thought might have been a new level of respect.


	14. And So It Ends

"Actually, it's right inside this so-called abandoned house," I told him softly. Betty was watching a couple frightened people emerge from their houses to see if it was safe once more. I took this as a good opportunity to move when he wasn't looking. Charon and I quickly disappeared inside of the house.

There was no failsafe terminal in sight. There was, however, a normal terminal on a desk in the living room. Only instead of turning on, it made a strange chiming noise when you touched it. I stared at it, confused. Charon tried to pick up an object and it made an irritating sort of beep.

"What the..." he asked, withdrawing his hand quickly.

"I think I'm getting an idea, here." I grinned and turned to look at Charon, who seemed to be growing increasingly frustrated by the second. He raised an eyebrow at me. "Red, start touching stuff - just anything!" He understood as we poked around the room, finding out what made noises and what didn't. "There must be a sequence here, like a password made out of actions. If we can find out what to hit when, it'll probably give us the terminal!"

After a bit of trial and error, we figured out the sequence of objects to touch to activate the fail-safe terminal. They made little chimes when touched in the correct order, and buzzes when touched in the wrong order. Betty must have been rooted to his spot, because he didn't appear to be looking for us.

A holographic screen appeared, taking up an entire wall. "Woah!" I exclaimed at the sudden development. A few options were listed in front of me in big, bold letters. I looked at Charon. "What do you think I should do? Activate this thing?" I pointed to one of the options, which I was too lazy to read properly. Something about an invasion.

"You're asking _me?_ I don't know. Mess with it. You must be better with that stuff than me," he replied, crossing his arms as he often did in the real world.

"Okay, but it's not my fault if something bad happens," I said my disclaimer and activated the fail-safe, hoping for the best.

Then the street outside was filled with the noise of gunshots. After flinching I smiled and shrugged at Charon. We opened the door and saw that strangely dressed soldiers were flooding the area, gunning down all of the people (other than Betty) and spouting out some unfamiliar language.

I blinked. "Well, at least I don't have to do anything." Charon didn't look too upset. "Hey, how come you don't care that they're dying?" I put my hands on my hips.

"It seems that they were doomed no matter what, at this point."

Somehow I wondered if that was it. He was a lot less pleased when he thought _I_ was going to kill them. So, their deaths were less important as long as they were caused by someone other than myself?

His eyes widened then and he pointed to the playground. "Look!" he said. A flickering, distorted door had appeared by the dog. We ran for it, but Betty's voice made us stop. The old man one, not the little girl one.

"Damn you! Damn it! You irritating bitch! Now they're all dead, and I can't revive them! Now I have to spend eternity by myself in this hell! Go! Get out! Leave me to myself!" he growled, stamping his tiny girl feet.

"Why don't you leave, too?" I asked, as the dog pranced out the exit, wagging its tail gratefully. I could tell Charon really wanted to follow it, but I wasn't just prepared to leave, yet. I wanted more exposition.

"You really are a moron, aren't you? My body is useless. I've been in here so long it's shrivelled up. I can't go anywhere. Now get out of my face, before I unplug your brain!"

Taking the threat with a level of seriousness I wasn't used to, I nodded to Charon and we got the hell out of there.


	15. So This Is Him

(Charon's POV)

I came to as the pod opened up. I felt stiff and sore, like I had been in there much longer than I thought I had. I clumsily landed on the floor and looked around. At her own pod, the Mistress was doing the same.

"Damn, it feels good to be back in my nineteen year old body," she sighed, stretching out of her own stiffness. She grinned at me. "Thanks for coming to rescue me. Even though I, you know, didn't need it."

I shook my head, muttering to myself.

"My goodness, it is wonderful to see you again," came a sudden male voice. A man stepped out from behind another one of the pods. He was wearing the same jumpsuit the Mistress and I had put on, and he had graying hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He was staring straight at the Mistress. Since I was behind her and she was now facing him, I couldn't see her reaction. She was, however, standing very still.

"Dad," she said. I took a breath. I certainly wasn't expecting this so soon. So, against her desires and by mere coincidence, she had reunited with her father.

"Thank you. If it wasn't for you, I would have never gotten out of that stupid simulation. Braun would have kept me there forever." His voice was very reserved, almost lacking in emotion entirely. So this was the "horrible" father? "But Lindsay, what are you doing outside of Vault 101? I left you there because it was safe. The wasteland is a harsh place, and I'm sure you now understand that, judging by the gun on your back."

"I... I got kicked out, dad," the Mistress said. Her tone was... different. Not full of the rabid enthusiasm she normally displayed. Angry. Hurt. Desperate. "After you left, the Overseer went batshit fucking insane, murdered Jonas, and I had to escape or else he would have probably killed me, too!" The man's expression seemed to fall a little.

"Oh, no. Honey, I'm so sorry. I-"

She cut him off. "No! Don't even start! You left me without a word! Jonas _died_ because of you! You didn't even ask me if I wanted to come along! How could you, dad? How could you do that to me?" Her voice was trembling, and I could tell she was trying not to cry. I didn't like where this was going.

The man was quiet for a moment. Then he set his eyes on me. If he was frightened, he hid it expertly. "Who's that behind you?"

The Mistress tried to compose herself. She was mildly successful. "This is Charon. He's my ghoul partner. We watch each other's backs. You know, things that a _father_ should do for his _daughter,"_ she snapped.

"Lindsay..."

"Don't _call_ me that any more!! I left that name behind with the vault, and I don't _want_ it any more!" Her father looked genuinely saddened by his daughter's words. I didn't know whether I should care or not, because if the Mistress wasn't exaggerating about his actions, he possibly deserved what she was saying to him.

"I see. What should I call you, now?" He was obviously in no mood to argue. Had he ever argued with her, at all? Had she always gotten her way?

"Minion. That's my name now. I've made a new life for myself out here. It's not heaven, but it's certainly a lot better than being shunned for the rest of my life in some cooped up little vault, trying and failing to get with Amata, being picked on my everyone else for the rest of my life, appreciated by no one..." she trailed off.

"I understand. I hope that someday you'll see that I only wanted the best for you, but I have unfinished business out here that I must take care of. For the good of everyone. I'll be heading off to Rivet City, if you want to know where to find me. Where are you headed?"

"Megaton. I got hit in the back of the head and I need to see a doct..."

"Honey... _Minion..._ I'm a doctor. You know this. Please, let me examine you."

She shuffled her feet uneasily for a moment, then sighed. "All right. I'll let you. But let's get out of this vault first."

Her father nodded.


	16. He's No Father To Me

(Minion's POV)

We went back up the stairs into the garage. I stuck in the back room while Charon and my dad went ahead. After changing back into my normal clothes, I joined them. Charon went back where I'd been to do the same, and dad checked out my head wound. He poked it, prodded it, stared it down, asked me questions, and made me follow his finger with my eyes. "Ow!" I complained, swatting his hand away from the lump for the fifth time.

"So you don't remember receiving the wound, or any of the events leading up to it?" asked my father, scratching his facial hair.

"No. Ask Charon. And gimme some Med-X. I haven't had any since before that stupid Tranquillity Lane crap," I demanded. My dad injected the pain-dulling drug into my arm while Charon, who'd returned a moment before, bluntly retold the story of my oh-so-wonderful idea and its results. I could tell he'd rather not talk to my father, but I wanted to even less.

"I can't believe you would do something so irrational and dangerous. At any rate, you've got a concussion. You'd best do as your friend suggests and relax for at least a week. As long as you do that, you'll be fine. Maybe you'll even regain the bits of memory you lost. And perhaps you'll learn your lesson," dad lectured.

"Shut _up, _dad," I whined, feeling dizzy as the drug flooded my system.

"Please don't be that way, sweetie. It hurts me to see you like this."

"It hurt me when you... you know... did those asshole things you did..."

He gave up on me for the time being and turned to Charon. "So, you look after my daughter? I'm James. Is she more trouble than she looks?" Charon simply grunted in response and I smirked a little from my seat on the counter top. He was as loyal as I'd hoped.

Dad sighed, at wit's end with me and my companion already. He slung his medical bag over his shoulder and cast me a sidelong glance. "I can't apologize enough, princess. But I know that even if I could, you probably wouldn't listen anyway." The smirk vanished from my downcast face. "I'm leaving for Rivet City, now. Come visit me there when you wish. I doubt I'll be leaving that area for a long, long time. Goodbye, love."

"Bye, dad," I said, refusing to look him in the eye. He nodded politely to Charon, opened the door, and headed out. The door swung shut behind him. I closed my eyes and tensed up.

"Auugh, I hate it when he does this! He tries so hard to make me feel bad for him!" I complained.

"Are you really just going to let him leave like that?" asked Charon as soon as we were alone, making me feel even more guilty than I already was. "It's going to be dark, soon. What if he gets attacked?"

I shook my head, groggily. "No, he can take care of himself. He made it all the way out here, didn't he? He's probably invincible by now." I opened my box of bubble gum and grimaced when I saw that there was only one piece left. I decided to leave it for the journey back to Megaton. "We'll leave tomorrow, so get some sleep tonight and rest up."

"Of course, Mistress." I could tell he was at least a little disappointed in me, but I didn't much care at the moment. With each passing second I felt worse about how I had treated my father. But, he'd been awful to me, so wasn't it just karma? ...I wasn't sure any more. I felt lost. I wanted to run out there and apologize to him, squeeze the breath out of him in a great big hug like when I was little, and have him tell me stories about mom.

But I just couldn't. I didn't have it in me.

﻿

----------

A/N: Personally I've never read a story where LW is oh so mad at daddy, so it was kinda fun writing it as such. Ohthemildangst.


	17. It's Not Your Strong Suit

(Charon's POV)

That last night we spent in the garage it rained.

Rain was a very rare occurance out here, but it did happen. The water that fell from the sky varied in levels of acidity, from harmless to mildly harmful. It had been a worse a few decades ago, but it was becoming more frequent and clean as the years passed.

We were lying in our bedding, fast asleep until it started. Under the metal roof of the garage, it sounded much louder than it should have. The Mistress tensed up and inched over to me, almost panicking. "Charon?" she said, keeping low to the floor. I sat up slightly and blinked at her. "What's going on?" she whimpered, gripping my arm.

"It's the rain," I told her. What kind of question was - _Oh. She's never heard the rain before. _"You... you know what rain is, don't you?"

"It's a weather effect, isn't it? I don't remember anything else about it." She seemed to relax a little, knowing now that it wasn't a direct threat to her.

"It is when water falls from the sky," I explained. She let go of my arm and hugged her knees to herself, burying her face.

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

"Sometimes. It depends on the acidity of the particular shower. It is best to stay out of the rain if you can." Accepting this as sad but true, she crawled back over to her bedding and settled in.

"Will it stop soon? It's really loud and my head hurts..."

"One cannot be sure. Rain comes and go as it pleases. Although, it does not happen very often, so you shouldn't worry too much." I too laid back down.

"Oh... well, that's good..." She yawned and rolled onto her side so that she was facing me. "G'night, Red."

"...Goodnight, Mistress," I murmured, closing my eyes.

I dreaded the day she witnessed her first thunderstorm.

----------

_"Some folks can lose the blues in their hearts, but when I think of you, another shower starts..."_ The Mistress was singing along with her radio, as we headed in the direction of Megaton. We'd left later than usual, as the rain from the previous night had delayed her sleep schedule quite considerably and she woke up late. "Damn it, he doesn't play enough songs."

"Most were destroyed long ago," I pointed out, keeping watch for any possible threats. The ground was still slightly damp, but there was almost no mud.

"So? People should make new ones."

I looked at her and smirked. "Why don't you write one?"

I knew as soon as her face lit up that I should have kept my mouth shut.

"Really? That's a great idea! And think about all the _time_ I'll have to do that, while we're travelling." She was quiet for a moment as her brain went into creative mode. I looked away and grimaced, cursing myself. She turned off her radio to help herself think. "If I can write a good song, and find a band to play music, I can sell the music to Three Dog and get rich!" Oh boy.

"I was only kidding, Mistress," I added, hoping to discourage her. Had she been this off-kilter before her head injury?

"No, shh, stop, I think I've got something!" she chirped, staring at the ground. For a moment she didn't move or speak. I awkwardly looked around us, hoping a yao gui would pop out to ruin her evil plans.

But it didn't.

And she perked up and started singing in a rather cheerful voice. _"OH, we're rogue adventurers, and we travel the wastes! Don't cross our paths badly, or we'll blow off your face!"_ She watched me expectantly. When I didn't react, she continued. _"I've got a bunch of guns and a fat man too, don't be a prick or I'll use it on you!"_

I couldn't help it; I had to laugh at that. Violence was one of the few things I could relate to. I quickly looked away and started walking ahead, but as quiet as I had been, she had still heard me. And now she wouldn't stop until she had a whole song going. I had damned myself by being mildly amused.

"Haha, you laughed. I saw. See? I'm not that bad! It may not be too pretty, but it's funny enough, right?"

I stopped suddenly gripped her shoulder. We both stood still and silent. I had heard something. But where had it come from, and what was it?

I spun around, hearing the bounding of animal feet approaching us from the rear. The Mistress did the same and we drew our weapons. Four dogs with bared teeth and menacing growls were headed right for us.

"Grenade?" I asked, and she dropped one in my waiting hand with a perky smile. I ripped out the tab with my teeth and lobbed it at them. It took out the two in the rear, while the others ploughed on. The closer one leapt at me and I shot it in the air, blowing off its jaw. It hit the ground just short of me and twitched violently, making horrible sounds as it died. The Mistress took out the last one with a few shots. She seemed to be steadily improving with her aim as time went on - when she wasn't strung out from jet, that is.

Threat neutralized, we began to relax. "We shouldn't let that meat go to waste," I said, whipping out my knife to slice up the dogs with. The Mistress pulled a face.

"Sure that crap's safe to eat?"

"Safe as any other irradiated shit we ingest." I tore out a hunk of meat that didn't look too bad and set it aside. She shrugged and joined me in the task.

"Anyway, I hope it tastes better than mole rat."

"I'd advise you to not get your hopes up."


	18. It Feels Almost Like Home Here

That night we spent in the same house from a few days ago, before our trip to Evergreen Mills. I don't know why, but it felt nice to see it again. Just as we had left it. I put the fireplace to use and roasted the dog meat we had salvaged earlier. The Mistress was humming along to her happy, gory song, and occasionally recording the lyrics into that arm computer of hers so she wouldn't forget them. Still, I seriously doubted it would be the kind of thing to become a "hit."

I watched her, sitting against the wall, much more her normal self than she had been since the "father" incident. It was a relief to see her this way. Things were going well.

When the meat was done I took it out of the fire and cut it up for us.

"Bleh," she complained, chewing on a stringy piece.

"Better than starving," I said.

"I know," she agreed, and continued eating. I gave her a curious look. "What...?"

"Nothing. You just don't usually... agree with me. That's all." I turned my eyes back to the food.

"Oh. Like that thing where I caught you smiling. I guess we're changing each other a little."

I stole a glance at her. She looked oddly peaceful, yet the glow from the fire dancing off her pale skin made her look somewhat demonic, as well. And then I couldn't think of a more fitting image of her. She was an unstable paradox; sometimes quiet and brooding, then suddenly doing everything possible to get our asses in trouble. Just for the thrill. Just to cause havoc and destroy.

She was a living demon. Not evil; just chaotic. She rejected order and discipline in favour of destruction and pleasure. She had asked me to call her Mistress but she had done so with an air of amusement, not cruelty. She wasn't serious about anything. Her own life didn't even appear to be of much importance to her.

If that was the case, why did she hire me?


	19. I Can See You, You Know

(Minion's POV)

Every once in a while I could catch him looking at me, but I made sure not to alert him that I knew. Did I have something on my face? He barely ever looked at me, even when he was talking to me. I wanted to ask if there was something specific on his mind, or something that he wanted to know, but at the same time I was too nervous. What for? I don't know. I get shy at the stupidest moments, sometimes.

Since he was staring, I decided to stare back. This caused him to look at the fire quite intently. His skin looked even more broken in this dim, flickery light. His fingers idly tapped the side of his leg, and I found myself transfixed by the simple movement. Long, slender, delicate fingers going up and down in a smooth rhythm.

I flinched, catching his attention.

"You all right?" he asked, turning his head back to me. I nodded sheepishly, staring at my lap.

"Yeah. Sorry. Cold chill. I'm gonna head up for the night, okay? I'll see you in the morning." I faked a yawn and stood up to stretch. He nodded and I practically leapt up the stairs before disappearing into the bedroom so he couldn't see that my face was turning a bright shade of red.

What had I been thinking, just then? _Stop it, stop it! It's not right! It's not fair!_ I was more than just embarrassed. If... if he'd had any inkling of what had just gone through my head moments ago, he probably would have shot himself in the head from the sheer lunacy of it.

I shook my head, trying not to think about it. Shedding out of my outer layers, I snuggled under the covers of the bed. My head wasn't working right. Try as I did, I just _couldn't_ stop thinking about him. In _that_ way. I told myself it was bad, it was wrong. I should stop, for his sake and mine.

But I didn't.


	20. You Should Feel Horrible

(Charon's POV)

The Mistress got up earlier than she usually did, and she was in another one of her weird, antisocial moods again. Huffing jet already, too. Agitated. She again skipped breakfast so I did, too. I asked her a simple question and her face got all red. She wasn't looking me in the eyes any more. Had my grotesque appearance finally gotten to her? Was Betty right, after all? These rambling thoughts caused me to feel a good bit miserable myself. I wished she would just tell me what was going on in that messed up little head of hers.

We arrived in Megaton around noon with no interruptions. It was my first time in the area, and I kept my eyes on everyone who passed by, just daring them to try something. Most of them gave me the generic "oh, yuck, it's a ghoul" face, so I glared back at them with a look that would have scared a deathclaw. The result was fairly satisfying.

As we made our way through town, a man with a very stupid hat approached the Mistress.

"Well, if it isn't Minion," he said, tipping his hat to her. As expected, he flat out ignored me. Better that way, I suppose.

"Hey, Simms," she replied with a nod. "What's new in town? I've been gone for a while."

"That you have. But I have great news! Your father came by, and you know that nasty bomb over there? He disarmed it! I offered him a reward, but he said to leave it for you." The Mistress was obviously affectedly by that. "Here," he continued, holding out a key and a piece of paper to her. "That's the deed and key to your new house. Right up there, by the entrance. Next time you see your dad, thank him again for us. He helped so much."

At a loss for words, the Mistress just nodded. The man bid farewell and went on his way. "He did that for me..." she murmured. "Even though I was a spoiled brat to him..." She clutched the items tight until her hands started shaking.

"Mistress, if I may suggest something to you..." I began, waiting for her approval. She sighed, untensed, and faced me. It was the first time she'd looked at me all day, and she was pouting.

"You're going to suggest that I go apologize to my dad, aren't you?" she asked.

"You got it," I replied. She handed me the key and shoved the deed in her bag.

"Go wait for me in, uh, my... our... house. I'm gonna go to Moriarty's and visit my friend, okay? Go ahead and eat lunch if you're hungry. I don't know when I'll be back." More pouting.

"Very well," I said, and started to leave.

"Charon-"

I stopped.

"I'm sorry. I've been acting like a royal bitch, and you don't deserve that."

"There is no need to apologize," I replied. I left her, and she was quiet behind me.


	21. Good To See You

﻿Author: Because you can't have a ghoul-love fic without a little bit of Gob! ...Yeah. But this is a Charon-fic, so... just a little Gob or we'd get that awkward Gob-LW-Charon love triangle going on... And this is a story about insanity and companionship, not the complications of lurve. x3

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(Gob's POV)

"Hi, Gobbie, I missed you, bud!" she said as she came inside and sat in the same stool she always sat in. It was a relief to see that she was still alive. I didn't know much about what happened when Minion left Megaton, but I did know that it was always dangerous. I was afraid that someday she'd just disappear altogether. So many people did these days.

"It's good to see you, pal." She didn't appear as well as she sounded. She looked tired. Messed up, somehow. Stressed out, too. "You don't look so good. What happened out there? You were gone longer than usual. Oh, did you hear the news about your dad?"

"Yeah, I did. Simms told me, soon as I got here. But, yeah... While I was gone, a lot happened. I found my dad before he came here to disarm the bomb, and... I feel so rotten." She sighed and put her hand on her forehead, staring at nothing. "I dunno if I have it in me to make things right again."

"Calm down, Min, what happened?" I didn't think she was a rotten person. Heck, I _knew_ she wasn't. Nobody rotten would be so nice and friendly to a corpse like me. "I'm sure it's not as bad as you think."

"But it _is._ I was really mean to my dad, and I think I might have destroyed our relationship..." I took her out a bottle of Nuka-Cola and she started to tell me about everything that had happened to her after she last left town. About going to Underworld, meeting this one crazy ghoul and something about a contract, then getting hurt in some raider camp, and finding her dad in a strange vault, and arguing with him...

Poor thing. So, she was a little on the wild side. But deep down, she must have had a heart of gold, or else she wouldn't have felt so bad. "Look, cheer up. We all make mistakes. All you have to do is tell him you're sorry. Let him know how you feel. And listen to him, next time. You were really upset before, and you probably still are, but to make things right, I think you're going to have to both tell him your side, _and_ let him explain his. He must have a very good reason for leaving you. And I think him leaving you his reward was his way of letting you know he still cares."

She looked at me and smiled in a sad sort of way. "You're right. Everything you said is right. I'm going to go find him and apologize, first thing tomorrow!" She jumped up, reached over the counter and threw her arms around me. I don't know how long it had been since someone hugged me like that. Probably the first time in fifteen years, since I'd said goodbye to mom. I had just started to savour the feeling when she _kissed _me on the cheek and pulled away, all too soon.

She must have been an angel.


	22. Welcome Home, Or Something Like That

(Charon's POV)

I stuck the key in the lock and jiggled it around until it turned. Damn thing stuck pretty good before I managed to wrench it back out. I put it away and opened the door, expecting to find a cramped little place with a bit of furniture. It was.

But there was a welcoming committee.

"Ah, welcome home, sir!" said an agonizingly cheerful Mr. Handy robot, hovering in the air before me. "I am Wadsworth, and it is my duty to keep you happy and entertained. I'll also tidy up the house and do whatever you ask of me. What can I do for you?"

"No, you don't understand," I said, moving past it and setting down my things on the floor, "I'm not the owner. I-"

The robot moved in front of me with a quickness I hadn't anticipated. "Not the owner? Then you must be - goodness! Intruder! Intruder!" it wailed, backing up and warming up it's buzz saw. I remembered that those things were equipped with flamethrowers and I went for my shotgun.

"Shit! I'm not an intruder! Listen to me, you goddamn tin can!" I snarled, prepared to pull the trigger.

"Intruder! Intruder!" It lashed out with its saw and I was barely able to roll out of the way in the tiny, unfamiliar room. Quickly I got back to my feet and started pumping it full of shells. It aimed another one of its tentacle arms at me and I knew what was coming next.

"Fuck!!" I dived to the side as the room was lit up like the wick of a giant candle.

"I'll dispose of you, you wretched fiend!" it cried dramatically as it came at me again. I ran up the stairs while reloading - don't ask me how, I'm still trying to figure that out myself - and finished it off, leaning over the railing.

"How... could I lose..." it whined as its voice lowered and slowed.

As I came back down the stairs, I noticed a bag of caps on the shelf. And a few fires. _I wonder if she'll be mad,_ I asked myself, as the sting of a burn on my forearm made itself known.

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A/N: Wow. I just realized how many bloody typos I had in this story. Well, I went back and fixed them. If I missed any and I catch them later I'm going to hurt myself. xD


	23. I'm A Bit Confused

(Minion's POV)

As soon as Charon opened the door I got a whiff of something pretty unpleasant, and it wasn't him. "Was something burning in here?" I asked, wrinkling my nose and locking the door behind me. Charon stared at me, a hint of satisfaction on his face. Then I noticed a deactivated Mr. Handy unit on the floor, completely totalled.

"That _thing_ called me an intruder and tried to douse me with its flamethrower. I took care of it for you. Something so poorly programmed should not be living with you."

I blinked.

"I put out the fires," he persisted.

"I guess I didn't need a robot, anyway," I sighed, walking around the small entirety of the first floor. "This place is nice. But I doubt we'll be staying here very much. Hey, there's food in the fridge!"

"Why's that?" asked the tall ghoul.

"I dunno. Maybe the robot got them. Maybe Simms left them for meeee," I held out the word 'me' for a few seconds as I realized that wasn't what he meant. "I mean, um, we'll be travelling a lot. ...Now that I'm free of that damn vault, I think if I stay in one place I'll lose my mind." The last sentence I more or less uttered under my breath.

"That is understandable," he said, probably just to demonstrate how good his hearing was. Any better and he'd be reading my freaking mind. And then he'd know all the... things I'd wanted to do to him. My face flushed red again before I could stop it, and I grumbled to myself about nothing as I pretended to mess with my weapons as an excuse to hide my face.

Since I didn't see a couch for some damn reason, I decided to plop myself down on the floor. I didn't really feel like exploring the upstairs, yet, and I was a little tired from the trip. Also, my head was starting to bother me again. Charon proceeded to join me at floor-level. My face was back to it's usual color by now, so I had no problem with him looking at me. "When do you suppose we'll leave next?"

"Tomorrow, if I can help it," I said, feeling a lot less motivated then when I'd stepped out of Moriarty's less than an hour ago. Charon looked caught off-guard. "I'm going to go after my dad and apologize. I've already restocked supplies and had my stuff repaired." I put my elbows on my legs and rested my jaw on my hands, mushing my cheeks very effectively. "I've gotta take _responsibility_ and be an _adult."_

"Do you honestly mean that?" he asked, giving me a doubtful smirk. I found myself returning it, locking onto his eyes with my own.

"What do you think?" I replied, with a small laugh. I brushed my hair out of my face and got back on track. "It's just what my dad would say. He always complains about how immature I am. And violent."

"By the way, there is a bag of 300 caps on the shelf. I'm assuming it's more of that reward that man spoke of."

I glanced up at the shelf I was leaning against. There was a small black sack sitting up there, just as he'd said. I sighed and adjusted myself, a little achy from leaning against the thing. "I'll deal with it later." He raised his eyebrow at me. "Money's the last thing on my mind right now." _The first thing being you with nothing on but a - oh shit I hope he really can't read minds._

We spent the rest of the afternoon organizing the stuff in the house, moving around what little furniture there was, and making small talk. We had a filling but boring dinner of Sugar Bombs and brahmin milk (it's not as vile as it sounds... but it _is_ pretty bad) and when it got late we went upstairs.

The bedroom was small, and even more cramped with the presence of a filing cabinet and a desk with a chair. The bed itself was twin-size. I thought hard on that. Pretty damn hard.

I was sitting down on the bed, and Charon had the chair. I rubbed one of my eyes and looked past him. "If I sleep here," I started, rather slowly, "where are _you_ going to sleep?"

Charon took a deep breath. "I'm not sure. I will come up with something. If it comes down to it, I will sleep on the floor."

I frowned visibly. "That's not a good idea. Just sitting on the floor for ten minutes made my butt go numb. If you try to sleep on it, I'm pretty sure you'll wake up with the worst backache you're ever going to have." _Come on, get a hold of yourself, Minion. He's not going to go for it._

"This is true. But I have been through much worse," he said, thoughtfully.

"I'm pretty small..." _Just shut your mouth and give up. _"...and you're tall and lanky..." I edged on, my heart rate quickening by the second. _Why does he have to be so... so..._ My eyes involuntarily (I swear) trailed up and down his figure. He merely stared back at the wall. _So fucking amazing. You don't have a chance with him. What would he want with a moody, reckless girl like you? He probably doesn't even like you very much. Stop it. Give up._

"Mistress, does your sentence have an ending?" he asked, apparently losing patience with my failing attention span. My train of thought crashed and I gave him a small, nervous smile, my heart pounding like the spray of an SMG.

"We can cuddle..."

_Oh god did that really just come out of my mouth._


	24. Close

(Charon's POV)

My reaction must have plainly displayed how fucking stunned I was, because she clammed up and started shuffling around, going for whatever objects were in reach and pretending they were the most interesting things she'd ever seen.

"But you don't have to, you know, I mean, I didn't really mean it that way, just squeeze in together till we get a mattress for you, y'know?" She was talking like she was high on jet again. And she wouldn't look at me. "'Cause, like, if you don't want to be that close to me, I'd get it, I mean, we've only known each other for a while, but-"

"If you are fine with it, then so am I," I said, hoping it would shut her up and bring her back to earth.

"Oh, good. Well, I'm glad. I promise I won't steal the covers..." she chirped, obviously relieved, but still acting strangely. I noticed her face start to get red. Maybe she was already regretting her decision. I was aware that my kind don't smell like a basket of roses, but I'm sure she was too.

Finally, she got the guts to look at me again. The way her hair kept falling in her eyes, and how she kept brushing it to the side... I felt a little distracted. I realized that she had been talking for a bit, and I cursed myself for not paying attention.

"I have an extra pair of pajamas, if you want. I bought them today from Crow. He's one of the merchants who visits Megaton. Um, I went to go check out his crap before I came here. Do you want me to get them for you?" Her words were slow and unsure.

"I prefer to sleep in shorts and a shirt, but if it would make you more comfortable, Mistress-"

"No no no, that's fine!" she said hastily. I was beginning to wonder about her. _Could she possibly...? No. No human would want that. That's why ghouls go with ghouls and smoothskins go with smoothskins. It's never been any different, and it'll never change._

I nodded and got up to leave the small room so that she could undress, but she said I didn't have to go. She didn't care if I saw her in her underwear. Still, it seemed pretty odd for her to stop me like that. She turned and started hastily loosening the strings and straps of her clothes. Because she didn't tell me otherwise, I watched.

I blocked out all thoughts and just took in the sight of her body. Her skin had darkened a little since I'd first met her, and if she'd been coated in dirt she would have almost looked like any wastelander. Yes, she was in shape, but she wasn't _scrawny._ She had a bit of muscle on her due to her new life out here, but not yet enough to make her body a killing machine all on its own. Her chest was nice. I wasn't expecting her to take off her undershirt, but she did. I almost lost it at that point but I stopped just in time, reminding myself harshly that she was my employer and I was nothing more than her employee. I had no chance with her. To even think such a thing was ludicrous.

The pajamas she pulled over her body were shimmering, even in the dim lighting. Probably made of some rare pre-war material. I wondered how much she had paid for them. They were a man's set, I could tell because the arms and legs were too long for her. She buttoned up the shirt with quick, nimble fingers and slowly turned back to me. She seemed almost _shy._

"Do you want me to help you with your armor...?" she asked, and the word 'idiot' hit my brain like a rock thrown by a know-nothing ghoul-hater.

I should have been getting undressed that whole time. Not staring at her near-nude body.

"I apologize for my insolence," I muttered roughly, trying to hide my shame. I undid my armor as quickly as I could, to try and make up for the awkwardness, but I doubt it helped. She just sat down on the bed and gawked at me, chewing on her thumbnail. I dismissed it as curiosity about the ghouls' body.

When I was clothed in nothing more than my black undershirt and shorts, she picked up her feet and scuttled to the back of the bed, right by the wall. I turned off the light and tried not to feel anything as I crawled in bed beside her, but _things_ kept going through my head. Dirty things. Things that you would do to a little demon like her, who kills for fun and backtalks her father.

I knew from the moment I felt her chest press up against my back on that narrow little mattress that I wouldn't be getting anything even _close_ to sleep that night.

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A/N: Awkward. Well, don't worry, the action will pick up again in a chapter or two. I promise.


	25. Maybe

"Charon?" I heard her whisper, after we had been lying together for a few hours.

"Yes?" She must have not been expecting me to be awake, because she was quiet for a moment.

"I don't want you to call me Mistress any more. You can call me Minion now, like everyone else, okay?" she continued softly. I was not expecting this, but I suppose by this point I should have. Despite myself, I smiled. It didn't matter. She wouldn't see me anyway.

"If you insist," I replied, and I felt her roll over beside me. The center of gravity on the mattress caused her to slide towards me, whether she meant to or not. It was a great relief not to feel her breasts against me any more, though. They were rather... distracting. I had been seriously considering just getting up and lying on the floor because of that, but with her back to me I figured I might actually manage an hour or two of sleep, after all.

I spent most of the night in a doze, not really sleeping so much, but the next morning I felt rested, anyway. The Mis- _Minion-_ awoke as I slithered off the bed, despite my attempts to do so in a stealthy manner. Crappy bed was just too springy. She rubbed her eyes and looked at me.

"So, Red, how'd you sleep?" she said, strangely cheerful for her usual morning routine.

"So-so," I said, hunting down my clothes and armor. She frowned and collapsed back on the bed.

"Really? That's all? So-so?!" she asked incredulously, fiddling with her arm computer again.

"Was I supposed to wake up feeling like I just took a five year nap?" I pulled on my pants, facing away from her.

"I dunno. I - hey, what's this?" Was she just changing the damn subject for the sake of it again?

"What?" I said flatly, walking to her with my over-shirt in my hand. She was tuning into some frequency on her radio, but it wasn't Galaxy News or that dumbass Enclave station. A teenage girl's voice came over the radio, and Minion's eyes practically bugged out.

"-know you're still out there. Listen, the vault's gone to hell since you left. My dad's just gotten worse and worse. We need your help! Please. I changed the password to get in to my name. If you're still the friend I thought you were, you'll remember what it is. I hope to see you soon, and that you haven't forgotten us..." After a couple of seconds of quiet, the message repeated itself.

"It's for you, isn't it?" I asked, putting on the last of my outfit. She nodded slowly, staring hard at the little screen. She switched off the radio and crawled off the bed. "And we're going to investigate, aren't we?" She nodded, and started to remove her pajamas. I turned around, deciding it would be best not to torture the side of myself that I'd been trying so hard to ignore yet again. Still, even as I was turned around, I saw her slender, soft body in my head, and it was, as always, hard as fuck to get rid of. I mentally damned her for being an attractive female.

"It's Amata. The one I was into, back home. She was my best friend since we were toddlers. She was the one who helped me get out the day after my father left, and everybody suddenly had the overpowering _urge_ to kill me. If she's in trouble, I'm going to go help her out." There was an odd tone in her voice. A dark, pleased tone. For the average wasteland asshole, it would have been hard to pick up on, very subtle - but I was more perceptive than most.

"You have other intentions, as well." I stared at her, now fully clothed. She gawked back with a look of bewilderment.

"...How could you tell?"

"Minion, I may not have been with you for too long, but I can tell when you're hiding something," I stated firmly. She broke into a devilish grin.

"All right, you win. I'm going to kill Amata's father."

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A/N: Thanks for commenting guys (I love getting them, I'm a real comment whore), I'm glad you're liking it so far. Just to let you know, SDLIWYCHT will be about 40 chapters in all, and I don't plan on putting it on any kind of hiatus again. There should be an update about every day, and I hope you guys keep enjoying it because I love writing it.


	26. It Can Wait

(Minion's POV)

He glowered at me, brow furrowed. I stalked out of the bedroom and down the stairs, tired of shuffling around the midget bedroom. Charon followed me from a casual distance.

"Amata's dad is the tyrant lord of the vault," I snapped in defence of myself, scrounging through the food stock for something mildly appetizing. "He's a bastard, and I'm going to kill him. Remember how you killed _your_ former boss? Well, that's what I'm gonna do. He's no fucking angel. He had a close friend of mine beaten to death for no god damn reason."

"Jonas," said Charon.

"Yeah..." I watched him closely, trying to recall a time when I might have let that slip out. The fight with my dad came up, and I figured I might have in the midst of my angry rant.

"I thought you were deadset on apologizing to your father today."

"Hey, come on! This is more important than that. Lives are at stake here." _And I can't wait to get my revenge._ "I'll get to it right after, 'kay? The vault's right around the corner from this place, anyway. It won't take long at all."

"You're going to get yourself killed, the way you go starting up trouble like this," he sighed, taking a can of Pork n' Beans from me and opening it with his knife.

"Charon, jeez, stop worrying. I'm capable of..." My mind went blank. "...stuff, you know." I took back the beans and plopped them into a waiting bowl that had been sitting on one of the shelves.

"Stuff?" he chuckled. It made me feel good to hear him laugh. "Well, for the things other than 'stuff,' I'll be here to aid you."

"Thanks, pal." I held out a box of InstaMash for him and he took it with a nod of approval. I watched him as he gently tore it open and poured the flakes into his own bowl. I took out a bottle of water and handed it to him. "Red," I started, trying to keep my expression as neutral as possible, "what's your opinion on ghoul-human relationships?"

He winced, spilling some of the water onto the shelf and floor. Then he gave me a suspicious look. "Why?"

There was no hiding the blush this time. He'd seen it. Had to have. It was too quick and I was too stupid. "Just curious, you know," I stammered, turning back to my beans and leaning uncouthly against the fridge. I attacked the food with a mostly-clean fork. "I mean, like, I've been around a bit, and I haven't seen any couples like that. Seems like there should be, 'cause nobody seems to have any, um, you know, restrictions out here. Thought you might have an interesting view on the topic."

He just smirked and kept his mouth shut.


	27. Holy Shit, What Is That

I felt exhilarated when we reached the sealed vault door inside of the cave. Finally, a distraction from that awkwardness! Ever since I'd opened my mouth about _relationships_, he'd been giving me the weirdest looks. It certainly did not make me feel good about myself. I placed my hands over the control panel for the door and prepared to enter the new password.

"Minion," began Charon.

"Wha'?" _Don't look at him. He's making fun of you again._

"Your people in here, they've never seen a ghoul before, have they?" he continued in a grave tone.

_Okay, maybe he isn't this time._ "Um, no." I shot him a glance. "I didn't think of that before. Do you want to wait out here?"

"Absolutely not," he grunted. "This visit is death waiting to happen, and I'm going to make sure nothing happens to you. You're too headstrong to do this without me."

I entered the password and metal grinding echoed throughout the cave as the door pulled back and rolled aside, permitting our entry. "So, you think I need you that badly?" I grinned wickedly and jabbed him in the chest.

"I certainly do," he persisted, crossing his arms tenaciously.

"We'll see," I huffed in mock-agitation, and entered my ex-home. Charon shook his head and stuck by my side.

The first person we ran into was Officer Gomez, a guy I'd known since I was a kid. He was one of my few friends' dad, and had always been pretty nice to me. But right now he looked nervous and dodgy. "Oh, gosh, it's you! What are you doing, here? The other guards will kill you if they see..." And then, the moment we had been dreading; he saw Charon. "AHH! Wh-what did you bring in here with you, Lindsay?! A horrible creature from _out there?"_

Charon growled under his breath and I put my hand on his arm in an effort to calm him. Or restrain him, take your pick. "Don't talk that way about my friend. He's not a monster. He's a pretty keen guy, so don't talk down about him."

"Oh, believe me, I won't. I value my own life," whined Gomez. Charon shook my hand off of his appendage.

"It's catching on, Minion. You should really consider taking that up," he griped.

"I came here to see Amata," I said to Gomez. "She called me here because she needs help."

"Well, come on, then. I'll take you to her. Just, please, don't start any trouble, okay? Things are bad enough, here. And don't stay long, if you can help it. I have a feeling the residents will feel uncomfortable with you around."

We trailed Gomez through the vault atrium and to the lower level. Anyone who took a close look at Charon (which was, unfortunately, every damn person we walked by) made some kind of gasping noise and tried to flee the scene. I glared at anyone brave enough to stick around and stare, not realizing that if I had been one of them, and someone else had walked through the vault with a person extensively mutated due to radiation, I probably would have been a bit scared too. (But knowing me I just would have been insanely curious and bothersome.)

I was not expecting us to arrive in my father's old clinic. But we did, and inside were a bunch of mattresses lying on the floor, and a couple of my peers moping about. Amata saw me and ran over. Gomez nodded his goodbyes to me and went on his way. "Oh my god, Lin! I can't believe you actually _came!"_ She threw her arms around me and took a sharp breath. "I missed you so much..." And of course, she freaked when she saw my companion. She cried out and took a couple steps back, hand over her mouth. The others in the clinic picked up on the commotion and backed up against the far wall.

"Give it a rest, Ama. He's my friend, and he's not going to hurt anyone unless they hurt me," I said, tired of the inevitable "oh god I'm afraid" reaction. "Just tell me what's going on. Are you all right?"

Amata folded her arms and pulled herself together, trying to keep her eyes on me as she spoke. "I'm fine, but... my dad won't let anyone leave - we can't stay here any longer! Supplies are running out, and he doesn't want to admit it, but the population is going to fade out in the next generation or two. He won't listen to me."

"So you want me to make it so you guys can leave the vault whenever you want, right?" I asked.

"Yes, that's it exactly. I know you can do it, Lin! You're the only one who can help us. You can convince my dad that what he's doing is wrong, and he'll unseal the vault for us... So we can come and go as we please." She smiled at me and I felt it in the pit of my stomach. Her approval always made me melt. There was no way I could say no to that face, and I knew mine was turning a bright pink.

"Okay. I'll do my best. But I can't promise anything." I turned away from her and started for the Overseer's office with my head in the clouds, when I heard an agonizingly familiar voice from behind me.

"Daaaamn, girl, you look different!"

I sighed and hung my head, knowing exactly who was there without even needing to turn around.


	28. Irritating Little Bastard

(Charon's POV)

I turned around to see an obnoxious-looking little scab of a boy around Minion's age, with greased-back hair and a black leather jacket. He was smirking widely, and I knew just by looking at him that it was only a matter of seconds before he pissed me off. Minion heaved a sigh and turned around slowly, hunched over like a child who'd been called out by a bully. The girl named Amata had already disappeared again.

Minion straightened up and put on a fairly neutral face. "Yooo, Butch. What's happening?"

"Man, you look tough. I guess that's what the outside does to you, huh - GAHH, THE FUCK IS THAT?!"

I growled and started towards him with my fists clenched tightly but Minion linked arms with me to keep me at bay. "This is Charon," she chirped, suddenly in a good mood. "Chaaaa-rooon. He's my _best friend!_ Try not to piss him off. He's kinda grumpy sometimes."

I rolled my eyes.

The boy called Butch shivered a tad and turned his attention back to my employer. "Anyway, listen to this: I'm really, really sick of this dump. I wanna get out there where you go, and start a gang or something. It'll be like so rad. But since that shit-head won't let anyone leave, it can't happen! You gotta help us, babe. I know I was an ass to you before, but it was all in good fun, yeah? I respect you now - you seem like you could kick some serious ass!! So whaddaya say?"

He seemed excited, once he got talking. He talked kind of like Minion when after too many Nuka-Colas. I dreaded the thought of accompanying two bouncy numskulls as they paraded the wastes. If she could help these morons, he'd better just go on his own way and leave us alone. One Minion was enough.

A loud, evil snicker from my left distracted me. I sighed, knowing that this was all about to go downhill.

"Don't worry, Butchie," said Minion darkly, her bangs masking part of her face. "I plan on giving the Overseer a good talk. ...You know, Butch, 'talk?'"

A slow grin crept over the boy's face. These two could have been siblings for all their disturbing similarities. "Heh heh. Yeah. I get'cha."

"Soon, all of your problems will be gone," said Minion, dreamily waving her hands in an arc. "C'mon, Charon. Let's go." She turned from the boy and I followed, glad to finally be rid of him.

"That boy is a nuisance," I said, as we made our way through the maze-like corridors of the vault.

"Pfft, tell me about it," she laughed, popping a new piece of gum into her mouth. "Asshole never left me alone when we were kids. It was always 'Tunnel Snakes this' and 'Tunnel Snakes that' and 'dumbass dyke.' I _did_ kick his ass, though, a few years back." She smiled fondly as she recalled the memory. "Hehe, he and his cronies were picking on Amata and I kinda lost it. I was a lot less violent back then, but hey, he provoked me."

We stopped in front of a unique door in a sort of dead end. "That girl..." I started, unsure where I was going with this. "You still have feelings for her?"

Minion seemed caught off-guard. Her face turned pink and she frowned and started to stammer as the doors opened. "Yeah. Well, uh- um, I mean, no!! She doesn't care about me like that. She's too bloody straight for her own good. It's really, um -" she jerked her face towards me and I watched with mildly wide eyes. "L-like, why do you care anyway?! Blehh!" She stuck her tongue and I chuckled, which only pissed her off more. Damn girl was more confused than ever. If only she'd just let Amata go.

"Ahem," came a stern voice from in front of us. We both ceased our bickering and snapped our eyes to the front. There was an older man before us, with a pair of security guards on either side of him.

"Oh _hi,"_ grumbled Minion.

"Well, if it isn't Lindsay," he said in a very pompous voice. "And some trash from the wastes." I leered at him but kept silent. "I will speak to you alone, daughter of James. And you will leave your weapons with your disgusting companion. Clear?"

She growled deeply and threw her guns and items to the ground at our feet. "Sounds great to me." She spat her gum off to the side. "I _love_ walking into traps."

I nearly choked on the ironic truth to that one.

"Minion I do not think that this is a very wi-"

"Later, Red." She cut me off and stepped into the room with the three men. I inhaled as the doors closed her inside. This was bad, very bad. I couldn't leave her in there alone. She was more than just an employer to me now, she was ...as ridiculous as this is going to sound, she was right - she was my best friend.


	29. Never Have I Been So Pissed

(Minion's POV)

"Minion I do not think that this is a very wi-"

"Later, Red." I cut him off because I knew that while he was right, I didn't have much of a choice either way. Even if I didn't agree to these terms, all hell would have broken loose and me and Charon would have been driven out of the vault forever. I could _not _let that happen. For Amata.

The doors closed but I was far too annoyed and preoccupied with hatred to be nervous.

"It's rather interesting to see that you've managed to adapt to living out there," he began in his grating, high-pitched voice. I could not have been frowning more. "But you are an anomaly. No one else from inside these walls would be able to handle such a thing. I know you came to convince me to let them out, but that's just not going to happen, is that clear?"

"I don't give a _damn_ about this vault," I spat. "I just wanted to make sure your _daughter _was okay. She did call for my help, after all. What does that tell you?"

The Overseer wrinkled his nose. "Ahh, yes, I almost forgot about your... disgusting infatuation with her... In all honesty, I should have had you terminated as soon as you started showing signs of that. I would have made it look like an accident, perhaps the fault of your own childish curiosity, and then we wouldn't even be having this conversation today... Homosexuality is despicable and wasteful enough, but to even insinuate that my _sweet_ little Amata would ever do such a thing so abominable is completely uncalled for!"

"Blah blah blah, you talk too fuckin' much!" I snapped. This was frustrating beyond belief. I'd come in here with the intent to annihilate his sorry ass, but he'd deweaponed me first thing, and had backup... I should have expected such from him.

Overseer Alphonse tensed in annoyance. "And you need to learn how to act like an adult! While James wasn't the greatest example in the vault, I'm sure even _he_ gets tired of your lip!"

"Fuck you!" I spat, tossing my head up snobbishly, with one hand on my hip. I wished I hadn't left my jet out there with Charon, 'cause some would have been great right then. Just a little and pa-pa-pow! - It wouldn't matter that I was outnumbered.

"That's it!!" he grunted, finally losing his temper. "Guards, take her down!! There's no reasoning with this tramp and I'm sick of her attitude!" He stamped his foot a couple times for emphasis. I knew there was no way to make the door behind me open, and his men were slowly moving towards me, their nightsticks poised for attack.

He'd have them beat me to death just like Jonas. ...And just like that something in me clicked. I grinned at them, my eyes mere slits. And I started laughing. And I laughed louder, and louder, until I was practically shrieking with it. Alphonse and his men froze, dumbfounded. It was so funny, and they were so stupid. They didn't get it. Well, they would in a minute.


	30. This Separation Thing Isn't Working Out

(Charon's POV)

The waiting and quiet on my side of the door made me extremely agitated, but that was only a fraction of what I felt when I heard her unrestrained, highly unnerving giggling on the other side. "God _damn_ it, what's she doing _now?!"_ I muttered to myself as I put my hands firmly on the smooth, knob-less door. I had to get in there, I _had_ to save her stupid ass, but how?! Her laughter died down and my mind started to reel.

I began to pound on the door but like the glass from the loungers in Vault 112, it had no effect. I'd have to think of something else, and fast. I looked around me but there was nothing of use. Finally I all but panicked and bolted in the direction we'd came from...

And right back to that bothersome little scab.

"She's in danger," I said urgently. "We must go to her aid."

"Why me?" asked Butch punkishly, crossing his arms and relaxing against the wall.

I swallowed. _Dammit, get a grip, Charon._ "Because I can't get that fucking door open!!" I shouted, surprising myself. Butch stared at me for a second and frowned.

"'N what makes you think _I_ can?" he huffed stubbornly.

I reached for my shotgun.

"Because if you do not," I said, aiming it carefully at his head. "I'll kill you myself."

The people nearby that had been watching us saw my gesture and cried out, scattering throughout the vault. "He's going to kill us all!" whined a shrill voice.

Butch coughed roughly and doubled over a little. "O-okay, man!! Sh-shit!" He looked back at me uncertainly. "But just because she's my friend..."

We made it back to the door in record time. I don't think I'd ever moved so fast in my life. "So what're you going to do?" I growled, squeezing my shotgun eagerly.

"I think I can pick this door, I've seen that brat Amata do it a couple times..." He pulled some small bobby pins from his pants pockets and held them up to see which way they were pointed.

"Hurry up!" I shouted, causing him to drop the pins.

"Damn it!!" he screamed, feeling around for them on the ground. "If you'd shut the hell up for one minute I might be able to do this!!" He found the pins and began jamming them into a certain spot on the door. I was trying to keep myself from blowing his head off out of mere frustration, as the violent and painful cries from the other side were keeping me well on edge.

"Almost... there..." he said tensely, twisting the pins in different angles.

The screams inside increased in volume and raw emotion, and I ground my teeth helplessly.

"N-no... just a little..." said Butch, sweating heavily. A few agonizing minutes passed as the noise quieted and Butch fumbled with the pins. I was about to lose my fucking mind.

"Damn it, I swear, if you're not alive when I get in there..." I murmured.

"Got it!!" screamed Butch as there was a click and the doors slid open. I held my breath and waited.


	31. Never Underestimate A PsychoBitch

(Minion's POV)

There was some banging on the door as my laugh ended. I figured it must be Charon, trying to rescue me. Although one might think it ineffective, it actually served to distract those three even more, giving me just the right amount of time to set my plan into action.

I whipped out the knife I'd had concealed near my thigh and slashed at the closer guard's exposed throat, sending him crashing down. His blood sprayed all over and into the eyes of the other guard, who in turn wailed and stumbled back. I smiled delightfully and ripped the nightstick from his grip as the fallen guard gargled and continued to gush blood in a rather satisfying fashion.

The Overseer cried out in shock, terror, and all of that good stuff, and backed up against the wall of his office onto his giant control panel. He appeared to be trying to do something with it but his fingers were too clumsy at the moment to function properly.

I was busy with the remaining guard. I missed my gun, but was pretty sure I was doing just fine without it anyway. The guard struck out blindly at me while still trying to wipe the blood from his eyes. I easily dodged the swipe and kicked his shin hard. He crumpled to the floor and I ripped off his helmet and cracked him in the back of the head with his own nightstick. He might have survived, but he'd be pretty messed up for a while (as I had apparently been after that raider camp incident). He went limp and I discarded the nightstick.

I turned slowly to face the Overseer, a tight little smirk playing on my lips. I wanted to laugh some more but restrained myself. I had done enough of that already. Alphonse was crying, but not quite sobbing. He began talking to me rapidly, forgetting all about his control panel. I slowly started for him, coated in the blood of one of his own men, with my dripping knife held firmly before me.

"P-please, cease this senseless violence!" he pleaded, inching around the back wall in a sad attempt to keep distance between us.

_"You_ were the genius who attacked _me,"_ I said, chuckling a little.

"Don't you see, this is insane?! You can't kill me, the p-people need me!!" he stammered, growing even more desperate. I kept following him at the same calm, leisurely pace. "We can even let you back into the vault! I'll - I'll try to convince Amata to look at you in a new light! Maybe she'll even want to go on a date with you!!"

My smile vanished and I took a single heavy step closer to him. He stiffened and froze once more, looking back into my eyes with just as much fear of me as I had of hatred for him. "Don't you even, _even_ joke about that," I said slowly, my voice more calm than ever.

"I wasn't joking," he said.

And I was on him in an instant, tearing at his flesh with my knife like it would undo every wrong in my life; the emotional trauma of my father's actions, the fact that Amata never wanted me, the death of Jonas, the hurt of growing up in a place that I hated but was sickeningly used to, and then suddenly being thrown out into a big, scary world where I had _no one_ and _nothing_ to comfort me.

Blood, everywhere. All over him. All over me. All I could see was red. It was his red, and it was my red. His blood, my passion. Time seemed irrelevant. There was no urge to laugh. No smiles. I don't remember when he stopped screaming, or crying, and I was just hacking away at a lifeless corpse, but even when I vaguely realized that was the case I still didn't stop. I didn't think I would ever stop.


	32. A Nightmare

(Charon's POV)

She was alive, and looked unhurt. But the image of her I saw was going to be forever ground into my brain, and I would think of it every day for the rest of my life.

She was sitting on his legs, bathed in blood. It stuck to her hair, her clothes, her face... continuously stabbing the Overseer's still body, in an almost ritualistic fashion. His organs were little more than a puddle of gore by now.

And the look on her face during this was the most twisted, disturbing thing I had ever seen. I had no words to describe it. I felt sick.

And I was not the only one.

"JEEZ!" screamed Butch, who I'd forgotten was right beside me. "Would'ja chill?!" He didn't seem like such a cocky little asshole right now. In fact he looked even queasier than I felt.

I turned my eyes back to Minion. She halted as soon as she heard Butch's voice. Her blade was poised in the air, and she stared blankly at the red mess below her. It was as if she had just come out of a trance, and didn't know where she was or what she had been doing.

Her hands drifted laggishly down to her lap and she blinked a few times. I couldn't stop myself. I put my shotgun away and ran over to her; to salvage what was left of her sanity.

"Are you CRAZY, man?!" screeched Butch, keeping his distance from the awful scene.

I kneeled down cautiously and put my hand on her soaked shoulder. With my other hand I gently removed the knife from her grasp. She turned her head to me and smiled the most _awful_ smile ever - and the worst part was that it still set me on fire. Her voice was soft and proud.

"Charon... I finally did it... He's gone..." I wiped off the knife and tossed it into her bag. Her eyes were still so very blank.

I grabbed her hand and helped her up. Butch was puking in the corner. He wiped his mouth and looked at the two of us. We must have been quite a sight. Me, a living dead man, holding hands with a young girl, dyed red.

"We should probably," Butch took a deep breath, "get the hell outta here. Like right now."

I nodded, and the three of us went for the door.


	33. Wakeup Call

(Minion's POV)

Holding Charon's hand felt nice. It was all I cared about at the moment, now that the Overseer was gone. I'd done my good deed. The people would thank me, and everyone would be happy now. And Amata would come travel with me and Charon and she'd love me someday. But for now I felt tired. I would just hold Charon's hand and walk with him and Butch.

People were acting strange in the hall. They gasped and backed away when the three of us went by. Were they still so afraid of Charon? They would probably like him more when they realized what I did for them. And then I thought, hey? What's the point of letting them find out for themselves?

I removed my hand from Charon's and turned to face them with a smile on my face. "Hey, guess what! You're all safe now! You can leave the vault, the Overseer's dead, I-"

The people began to talk. Loudly. I couldn't tell what they were saying; their words were all muddled together. But for some reason, they didn't look happy _or_ thankful...

Someone grabbed my arm and spun me around to face them. It was Charon again. "We must leave. _Now."_

I pouted at him. "Hey- why the rush?" He yanked on my arm forcefully and we continued for the exit again, at twice the pace than before.

"Man, oh man, oh man!!" whined Butch from just behind us. "Why did it have to go down like this?"

I didn't understand. Why was everyone acting so bloody weird? I gave them all what they wanted! Didn't I? _Didn't I??!?_

We arrived at the entrance, practically sprinting, and Butch hastily pushed the button to reopen the main door. "What about Amata?" I asked.

Timed perfectly, she entered from another door. "Lin-Lin!! I heard screaming, what ha-" When she saw us she stiffened and almost tripped. "You... Why are you... c-covered in..." Charon and Butch watched Amata draw near me.

I smiled at her. "Covered in what?"

"...Blood..." she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

I looked down at my body, and for the first time, saw that I was indeed as she said. Was that why everyone was giving me weird looks? "Oh. You're right," I agreed. I looked at her again and beamed, taking a few more steps closer to her. "But everything's okay now! I gave your dad what he deserved. You can all leave the vault whenever you want, now!"

"Oh, god..." said Butch.

Amata's breathing became erratic and she made an unusual face at me. "You BITCH!!" she raged, smacking me across the face with the back of her hand. I stumbled and Charon had to catch me. For some reason, he did not attack Amata. I gaped at her, taken completely aback. My head began to clear as she continued screaming at me. "How could you KILL my father and then expect me to THANK you for it?! Get the FUCK out!! All of you! I never want to see you again, you FREAK!!"

And she turned and ran. I stood back up on my own and watched her go. And the fog lifted from my head. My eyes filled with tears and I wilted like a dying plant. "...Fine..." I whispered, trembling. There I was, covered in her father's blood, raving like a lunatic, and not even realizing it. And it had cost me any_ tiny _chance I'd ever have had with her. "I hate you anyway..."

It took everything I had left in me to turn and walk away from her, forever. Butch and Charon followed silently.


	34. She Doesn't Like It

(Charon's POV)

As we stepped out of the cave mouth and into the dimming sunlight, Minion took her bag from me and began chugging vodka like there was no tomorrow, sniffling occasionally. She walked on ahead of us a few yards, which was bad because I did _not_ want to deal with Butch.

"Wow!! It's so big! And _bright..._ Man, I'm gonna flip, this is _boss!"_ He caught sight of Minion. "What's she doin'?" he asked me quietly. She was probably too far gone to hear, anyway.

"Being Minion," I explained bluntly.

"She do that a lot?"

"That's none of your business," I said. "Why are you still following us? You do not even know where we're going."

"'Ey, Lindsay!" he called to her with a smirk. "Where we goin'?"

I froze, and so did Minion.

After a moment, she responded, without turning around. "Why the _hell_ are you still here?!" she whined. She was apparently too upset to even pretend she liked him at the moment. She started walking again.

"The hell did I do to piss her off?" he asked cluelessly.

I frowned at him peevishly. "She doesn't _like _it when you _call_ her that." And I started walking too. A few more seconds and so did Butch. It would have been nice if he'd just stayed there and been mauled by a raider.

The little grease ball looked irritated. "Then what am I s'posed to call her? That's what I've always called her!" he grumbled childishly, kicking his feet in the dirt.

"Minion," I said. "That is her new name."

Butch broke out into a fit of laughter. "Hahaha, what?! Minion! Seriously? That's so dumb! You know it's like a bad guy's underling, right?!"

I put my hand on my shotgun with a face that said, "keep pushing it, pal." Butch's laugh became a cough and he turned red.

"I- I mean, it's just a bit unusual, is all..." He jogged over to Minion, and I felt the need to quicken my pace as well. He was really getting on my nerves. "Hey, how about I call you 'Minnie?' I mean, that's pretty cute, and you're not a bad-lookin' gal... uh... 'cept for the blood 'n all..."

She tensed up and threw the empty bottle down in the dirt, and faced him with a miserable glare. "Yeah. Okay? I knoooow. I KNOW. I'm a fuckin' creep!" I could tell from the delay in her speech that the alcohol was starting to mess with her, but at least she was calming down a bit. "I'll take a bath soon as we get to the river. Maybe if I'm lucky some mirelurk'll drag me under and I won't have to wake up tomorrow..."

Of course, I'd sooner die than let that happen to her. However, a smile caught my lips as I imagined one doing such a thing to Butch.

"So," he began, a bit more gently than before, "where we goin'?"

She sighed and scratched her face. "Place called Rivet City. My... dad went there for some reason. I just, I gotta go tell him I'm sorry and then we can do whatever."

Butch tilted his head. I practised aiming at it with my hands, wondering what shade of grey his brain was. "Does that mean I can go with you guys?" he was getting antsy again.

"Yeah, yeah... I don't want'cha to _die_ or anything... I mean..." she started swaying a little. I grabbed her shoulders to steady her. "...Like... I barely survived out here on luck alone... um.. Reeed," she looked at me dizzily. "More alcohol, I feel _sober."_

"If you have any more, you're going to pass out," I reasoned.

Butch saw me with my arm around her and snickered. "So... did'ja two _do it_ yet?"

My hands spazzed involuntarily. Minion crashed to the ground and probably got a faceful of dirt. "Ooow," she griped, before rolling over. Now she needed a bath even more.

I had my shotgun aimed at Butch at the next instant. "Are you insinuating I have feelings for Minion?!"

Butch stiffened and waved his hands frantically. "Woahh!! Minnie, call your crazy creature offa me!! I was just makin' an observation, ya know?!"

"Charon, _dooown,"_ she slurred. "And som'body help me the fuck _uuup."_

I grit my teeth harder than I should have and lifted her up under the arms. She went limp like a noodle. "You broke me," she babbled uselessly. "I can't walk any more."

"You're just too drunk to walk," I grumbled and shoved her bag in Butch's ugly mug. "Carry this. I cannot carry that and her at the same time."

"Fine," he snapped, taking the bag.

I hoisted her up and started to carry her piggy-back style. She wasn't very light, but I wasn't very weak so it didn't matter. "If you are going to follow us around, you're going to have to do some work."

"Whatever," said Butch.

"Red to the river and Bridges City," she mumbled, drooling on my cheek. I grimaced and tried to ignore the fact that it was turning me on a little.

"So bloodbag, when did your nose fall off?" chirped Butch, suddenly pleasant.

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A/N: Charon is a very dirty man. :3


	35. I'm Pretty Hip

(Butch's POV)

It was really dark up there when we made it to the river. You know, dark in the sky? It was so weird how it just kept changing like that. And then the stars and the moon came out, and _man!_ I ain't never seen nothing so cool in my life.

"Stop gawking at the sky and help me out, here," said that creepy guy, Charon.

I made a face at him and said, "What? I dunno what you think you're doin' over there." He'd already started a fire, something else I didn't know how to do, but I figured I'd probably pick it up eventually.

"I am making a shelter. Maybe if you'd pay attention, you'd learn something." Man, he was fuggo. I went back to looking at the sky. Charon growled and kept yapping. "If you're going to be that useless, at least wake her up," he jerked his head towards Minnie, "so she can take her damn bath."

"Whatever," I said coolly. She was lying on the ground. I kneeled down beside her. She looked really messed up, and she was drooling all over herself. Gross. "'Ey," I started, shaking her shoulder real hard, "wake up princess, we're at the river."

"No, noooo..." she dribbled. I kept shaking her.

"Helloooooo..."

"Druh... buh... river?" she said, suddenly opening her eyes.

"Yeah. You can go wipe all that grody shit offa you, now."

She sat up, grinning. "Awesome!!" Before I knew what the hell was going on she was up and running for the river, leaving a trail of clothes behind her.

"Heh heh..." I laughed, watching her go.

And something hit my head.

"Ow!!" I looked up, and it was that damn creeper, hit me with his fist. "Chill, daddy-o! What's your _problem?"_

He glared down at me something fierce. "Your mouth was open."

"Oh come on!" I said, pushing myself up. "You can't tell me you don't like that."

He just made some weird noise in the back of his throat and turned his attention back to her. "Stop gigging so much, unless you still want to be mirelurk food!"

She stuck her tongue out at him but still quieted down her happy wails. "Heheheh! I'm totally gettin' in on this," I said, leaving my own trail of clothes to the river.

"Ugh, what are you doing?" called Charon, bugging out. "Stay away from her!"

Stark naked, I joined her in the water. It practically froze my balls, but I played it off pretty well. "Hey dolly," I laughed, leaning against a big rock. "What's shakin'?"

She was clean now and slick with water. It was pretty hot, even with her hair all wet and scraggly like that. "What are you doing in here?" she snorted through a laugh, and I blinked.

"Uh.. you know, taking a bath..." I said stiffly.

"Well, don't try anything funny. I don't want any," she said, jabbing me in the chest with her finger. Damn, still too much of a dyke to fool around with. But she liked that bloodbag? This place really must have drove her crazy. "We can't stay in the water too long, though. It's irradiated."

I frowned and took a look back at Charon. He was sitting by the fire, giving me really weird looks. "What's up with him, anyway? There a word for what's wrong with him?"

"A grump?" she laughed.

"No, you know what I mean. All nasty-lookin' and stuff."

Minnie pouted and crossed her arms. "He's a ghoul. That's what they call that condition. I thought I said this before to you, but it's what happens when you're exposed to too much radiation and survive." She flicked the water carelessly with her fingers.

"W, w, wait up!!" I gulped. "Does that mean someday we're gonna-"

"Nahh," she said with a grin. "We've got RadAway and Rad-X to save our asses." She sighed and closed her eyes, face aimed at the stars. "Anyway, I think most of the ghouls actually changed around the time that the world ended..."

"What're you on about? The world ain't ended. We're still here, ain't we?" I asked, feeling a bit depressed all of a sudden.

She looked at me curiously. "Yeah. I guess that's one way to look at it..."

"Get out of the water!!" screamed Charon, scaring the piss out of both of us so that we both flinched and cried out.

"What, what's goin' on?!" I blabbed, and Minnie had me by the wrist and was dragging me back to land.

"Mirelurk!!" she cried.

A few shots later and we were just standing there, in the dirt. Naked. With this big dead crab thing a few feet away. And I seemed to be the only one feeling weird about that.

"Ohh boy!" said Minnie, clapping her hands. "Dinnertime!"

"Get your clothes back on," said Charon, probably mostly to me.


	36. Unholy Trio

A/N: Okay so it's been like 9 days since I updated. Oh well. Haha, I'm lazy, and if I don't get enough reminders that people are reading, then I slack off. Anyway have two chapters since I'm feeling generous and the story's almost over anyway.

-----------------------------------------------

(Minion's POV)

That mirelurk was probably the best thing I'd had to eat since getting kicked out of the vault about a month ago. But I tried to push that place out of my head as much as I could. There was nothing but bad memories for me there, now. And Amata... I _really_ didn't want to think about her. Boy, had I _ever_ fucked up things with her...

Me, Charon, and Butch were all sitting by the fire, relaxing in the cool night air and digesting our dinner. And I actually felt pretty content, when I thought about it. I was independent, could do pretty much whatever I wanted, had two all right friends at the moment (one who would probably die for me even though we'd only been together a short time, and one who I'd known my whole life, but would probably use me as a human meat shield before taking a bullet), and maybe we'd stay together forever and form some kind of Unholy Trio. And we'd own the wastes. A hedonistic lifestyle with no worries and every night a party. It would be beyond awesome.

"Minion," said Charon, and I snapped out of my fantasy. "It is getting late. You should sleep."

"But I took a nap... bahh, you're right. I'll get the beds." And then I remembered something. "We only have two beds, Red." We both turned to looked at Butch, contemplating.

"I'll sleep with Minnie!" he piped eagerly. I sent him a disapproving look.

"I'm sure she would be more comfortable sleeping beside me," said Charon, echoing my thoughts. "It wouldn't be the first time."

"Yeah, this morning, actually," I chirped, and Charon rolled his eyes at me.

Butch was pouting. "Aww, come on. Why do you wanna sleep next to that bloodbag? He smells rank."

"I don't care," I said pleasantly, hugging my knees to my chest. "He's good to me, and I trust him."

Charon cleared his throat and got up. I was getting an odd vibe from him all of the sudden. Had I weirded him out again? He was so touchy sometimes. "I should take first watch, anyway. Minion, may I suggest Butch takes the second watch?"

"Hey, no fair!" he whined.

"Don't worry, I'll take second watch. I've gotten more sleep than you guys, anyway. Just wake me up when you're ready, 'kay?"

"Very well," he said, facing away from us and out towards the horizon. "I'll set up proximity mines by the river to keep the mirelurks away, so I may focus on other possible dangers."

I stared at him sulkily, holding the bedding under my arm. Butch was smoothing out his own bed, humming happily to himself. Probably stoked to be out of the vault for good. "Red? Are you all right?"

"Don't worry about me," he said, and my mood sunk a little again. What was wrong? Was Butch really bothering him that much? I was trying so hard to get over what just happened; I _really_ didn't need this at the moment. Things were going so _well_ between us til I opened my mouth...


	37. Rotten Luck

(Charon's POV)

Why did she have to look at me like that, with so much trust in her eyes? She knew nothing of the things I had thought of doing to her, while she undressed before me, and as we laid together _so closely_ in her narrow bed. If she saw my face she'd be able to see the guilt written all over it.

However, I still knew it would be best for me to sleep beside her, in place of Butch. While I merely daydreamed about doing these things with her, Butch would probably just molest her all night without shame. I felt a little better seeing them crawl into separate beds.

It wasn't long before Butch started snoring loudly, but Minion seemed to be taking a bit longer. "Red?" she said tiredly.

"Yes?" I turned half-way to look at her. She was entrancing, sprawled out like that, and her hair was almost dry now, gently masking parts of her face, which was again tinted with an orange glow because of the fire. I felt almost mesmerized as I watched her lips form her words.

"Did I piss you off or something, earlier?" she asked, leaning on her elbows.

"No, you have done nothing to bother me. I am the one who is in error," I replied, turning back around to stare at the empty night.

"Well," her voice was like silk, "If it's anything you want to talk to me about, go ahead... I want to hear it... we're best pals, after all... partners in crime. Goodnight, Red."

"Goodnight," I murmured, and she settled back into the blankets. My mind was slowly overtaken with "what ifs" and other thoughts as I failed to notice how tired I actually was...

"ATTACK!!" cried a deep, gruff voice.

My eyes snapped open to moonlight and I felt momentarily disoriented. How long had I been out? I got to my feet and saw that Minion and Butch were in a frenzy, and my friend was hastily messing with her chinese assault rifle. I looked behind me and saw a group of mutants staggering towards us, all with various kinds of melee weapons. Luckily, none of them had guns.

"Shit, shit, shit, what do I do?!" stammered Butch, hiding behind Minion. "I only have a knife, I don't want them to get near me!"

I snatched up my shotgun as the mutants came within range. I nailed one of them between the eyes, and paused to toss the idiot an old 10mm. Butch yelped as he caught it, but apparently knew how to use the thing, as he began to fire off poorly-aimed shots in the general direction of the mutants.

Minion wasn't doing so good either. I didn't know whether it was the rude wake-up call in the middle of the night or a hangover or a combination of the two, or what. It could have also been that she simply wasn't a good shot in the dark, which was understandable. I turned my attention back to the mutants, who were almost upon us.

_Goddamn it, this is all my fault! How the hell did I fall asleep?! _Had I been so exhausted without realizing it? If something happened to her, I deserved full blame. I should have finished my shift and woken her up, not closed my eyes and blacked out. How could I protect her if I made stupid mistakes like this?

"The fat man, where is it?" I asked hastily, sending another mutie down.

"It's at home," she shouted angrily. "It was too _heavy_ to carry with all that extra stuff so I just left it at home! I know, I'm a dumb-shit!!"

"Forget it!" I cursed to myself and dodged a swing from a mutant wielding a lead pipe.


	38. This Shit Is Dangerous

(Butch's POV)

I was flipping shit, I knew, but I just couldn't help it. These big green freak things just came outta nowhere and started wailing on us, and I was tired as hell. I wouldn't have been scared if it was just normal guys, but these were something like nothing I'd ever freaking seen before. I knew how to use a handgun but damn, my hands were shaking too much to work at all. And now those things were right on us!

"Man, it's too dark for this!!" I screamed, running from one to try for some distance before I started shooting again. A few minutes ago I'd been dreaming about a three-way between me and Suzie Mack and Christine Kendall - now I had to deal with this shit.

"Tell me about it," said Minnie through grit teeth. She sprayed one in the chest and it stumbled but kept coming.

The bloodbag was in his own world, doing more damage both than me and Minnie combined. Did he have nightvision eyes or something?! "Augh!!" One of the damn things took a cheap shot at my face with its bulky fist when my guard was down. I hit the ground and rolled out of the way just in time to keep from being made into a pile of Butch mush.

Minnie grunted as a wooden plank slapped her in the face. She fell like mom after too much booze, and was quiet. I tried to off the jerk that did it to her, but since I couldn't aim for shit all that did was make him come after me. At least it kept him from doing any more damage to her.

"Yo Charon, a little help here!!" I begged, trying to shoot from the dirt.

"Busy," he snapped, blasting another one in the face.

"Minnie's down for the count, you ass!" I growled, finally nailing the green bastard in a vital spot. He roared and smacked against the ground, and in a matter of time he'd probably bleed out.

Charon whipped his head around and his eyes bugged out when he saw her KO'd on the ground. I jumped to my feet and together we finished off the last of the green things.

"Is she gonna be okay, man?" I asked when we crouched down next her.

"Don't know..." he muttered, and he actually looked and sounded really nervous. That didn't do shit for my morale. "We must hurry; we are almost to the city." There was a _lot_ of blood coming out of her left eye, and her head was rolling around while she made this nerve-wracking whining sound.

"What were those things?"

Charon was ripping a cloth and rapidly tying it around her eyes to lessen the blood flow. "Super mutants." He scooped her up in his arms and I grabbed what was left of our stuff and packed it up as quickly as I could.

"There's a lot of crazy dangerous shit out here, huh?"

"My eye," she squealed in agony. "I can't see!"

"Med-X- get the Med-X, Butch..." said Charon, doing his best to comfort her. I did what he said, but just because I didn't want Minnie to be in all that pain. When he injected her with the stuff she finally shut up, and we hurried across a nearby bridge and on to that place called Rivet City. There weren't any interruptions on the way.

---------------------------

A/N: I've been going back and adding crap to some of the older chapters, if you're interested. Most notably 1, 2, 5, and 7, but I'm sure there's a few other extra scenes floating around. I really kinda just wanna reorganize everything after I put up the last chapter. Ugh I feel weak. NEED SUGAR/CAFFIENE.


	39. I'm Sorry You're Sorry He's Sorry

(Minion's POV)

"...about does it. Now all that's left is to wait for it to heal." That voice? It sounded so familiar. Wait, was it - my dad?!

"Look, she's waking up," came a second, unfamiliar voice. It was a man's, about my dad's age, maybe older.

I opened my eyes but for some reason I could only see the right side of my nose. My head was spinning and I was in a lot of pain. If I kept getting hit in the head like this I'd probably go brain-dead, if I wasn't already. I almost felt like giggling when I thought I was probably brain damaged, at the least. "D, dad? Is that you?" I could see three fuzzy figures.

"Yes, sweetie. How are you feeling?"

"It hurts like a bitch," I admitted. "Who else is there with you?" I closed my eyes, because I felt like I was about to roll off of whatever I was lying on.

"This is Dr. Preston and your companion Charon is here, too. We politely asked him to wait elsewhere, but he refused to leave your side. We've given you all the medication we can; I hope the pain isn't unbearable," explained dad.

"Why can't I see right?"

"I'm very sorry to tell you this, pumpkin, but..." there was a peculiar tone in his voice that worried me, "...we had to remove your left eye. It was practically destroyed during your fight with the super mutants. There was no way to save it-"

"Ohh, no, nooo, noooo!" I groaned loudly, squeezing my hands into fists. "How the hell am I supposed to shoot things with one bloody eye?!"

My dad sighed heavily. I heard someone leave the room. It must have been the other doctor. "Honestly, dear, please take it easy from now on. No more raider-chasing or any of that. It's amazing I haven't lost you yet - not even a week ago I was treating you for another head-wound!"

I tapped my fingers on the table (or was it a bed?) and tried to formulate what I had been meaning to say to him ever since our fight (or rather, my fight with him). When I had something I thought was coherent enough, I began to speak. "Hey, dad... So, I'm really, I mean, I just wanted to say... I'm um, sorry for being a bitch to you earlier... I was just upset because I felt betrayed, when you left me alone in there in the vault... I'm sure you must have had your reasons, even if I... wouldn't agree with them..."

"It's all right. It's understandable for you to be angry with me, and I apologize as well." ...Wait, what? _What?!_ "Anyway, you're my daughter, after all. I'm used to your temper." He actually laughed a little, though it was probably the stressed out to the point of no return kind of laugh. How it boggles the mind.

I opened my eyes - er, eye, and stared in disbelief at his figure, which was finally coming into focus. "Used to me?" He was bloody _used_ to me? Ugh, whatever. At least I wouldn't have to feel bad about it, any more.

"I know you must be tired, so I will leave you be for now. Please, if nothing else, at least take it easy until your wounds heal. See you later, honey."

"Okay... Bye, dad." I heard the door open and close softy, and me and Charon were alone. Before I could think of anything to say to him, he approached me with crossed arms.

"I apologize. It is entirely my fault you've been injured this badly. I would understand if you no longer feel safe in trusting me." His face was now becoming clearer, but my sight was still polluted with dizziness and dancing rainbow specs, which were kind of pretty if not so painful.

I mentally shrugged it off. "Don't worry about it. So, you fell asleep. It's not like you, y'know, put the bullet in my head yourself..."

"It was a plank, actually. You wouldn't have survived a bullet at that proximity."

I couldn't help but crack up. He'd changed since I met him, but he'd always be my Red. Always. "Anyway, we all make mistakes. I could never be mad at you, buddy..." I trailed off, and my face got warm.

"You may forgive me, but I cannot forgive myself. I'll never make another careless mistake like that again, I promise," he said firmly.

"Hey, where's Butch? He didn't_ bite_ it, did he?" I asked, noticing the lack of the greaser.

"He sustained minor injury, but he's all right. He found the bar as soon as we got you to the infirmary, and he's been there ever since."

"Lucky bastard," I said with a smirk.

"Are you in much pain?" Charon asked gently, leaning a bit forward.

I laughed but stopped when it started to feel like a mole rat was gnawing on my brain. "What do you think?"

"Your sense of humor never ceases to confuse and amaze me, Minion," he replied.

"Did I ever tell you you're pretty?"


	40. Same Old Song And Dance

_"Did I ever tell you you're pretty?" _

I must have had the most retarded grin on my face. Charon rolled his eyes but I swore I could have seen some amusement on his face.

"No, you have not."

"Do you think _I'm_ still pretty?" It was a total joke of course - I knew there was no way I looked any cuter than a sack of deformed kittens. That was on fire. Probably drooling all over myself from the pain killers, too. And whenever these bandages came off I'd be sans an eye, and that'd look _really_ funky.

But Charon seemed to be uncomfortable all of the sudden. I tried to put my hand up to wave it off but had little success. "Hey, I was only kidding. You don't have to lie to make me feel better. I know I'm no looker, anymore. I stopped being sexy the minute I started prancing around in the wasteland's dirt."

"You _always_ look good to me," he muttered, looking at the ground.

I blushed and stared at him, stupefied. "Um... huh?"

"Whether... whether you're covered in dirt or blood, missing a limb or dotted with scars, you will always be attractive to me." He was quiet and barely audible. I could have shook off the awkwardness by cracking a joke or something - but I was too weak to sit up and too stunned to think cleverly.

"Oh... hehe... I... I dunno what to say, Red..." Damn it! Shy again! Why did he always make me feel this way? "You know..." _Oh god what am I saying now._ "Y-you could always, hehe, um..." _Shut up shut up shut up!! How many times do we have to go over this?_ "Lean down a bit closer and..." _NO MEANS NO YOU BIMBO!_

Charon leaned towards me. I found myself fixated on his lips, dry and cracked as they were. "And...?"

"Uh... uh..." I stammered with the dumbest, most hesitant look on my bright pink face. "Give me a-"

And then, with the most_ wonderful_ timing ever, Butch popped into the room with a great big shiner on his eye. "So how's Minn- HOLY SHIT ARE YOU GUYS FINALLY GONNA DO IT?! RIGHT HERE?!"

"GET THE FUCK OUT!!" we both screamed, mortified.

"GROSS!!" Butch exclaimed, slamming the door behind him.

**Fin.**

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A/N: So that does it for "She Doesn't Like It When You Call Her That." I hope you had fun on this odd little adventure.

And let me know if you'd be interested in a sequel. Because I've totally been contemplating doing one. There would definitely be more progression with Minion and Charon's relationship, since I've kind of left them on a cliffhanger, here. And more of Butch, so don't worry - he's not going anywhere.

Also, I've gotta finish updating the chapters. I got sidetracked when my computer broke. (I don't have a computer now so typing/writing is difficult.) It'll get done eventually.

**UPDATE: **I've finished updating the chapters! I went through them all a good four times cuz I wasn't paying attention and accidentally screwed up the order of them, but everything should be fine now. If you see any problems I've overlooked, minor or major, let me know please! Also, since so many people have shown interest in a sequel, I'm going to make one, but unfortunately I can't do it until I get a new computer. And go back to chapter 17 for a little scene at the top that will probably be brought up in the sequel.


	41. Sequel

The sequel is starting! It's title is "Her Name Is Minion" and you may click on my username to find it with ease.

In it I promise you nice readers:

- More silly perverted Butch!

-The continuing spiral into insanity due to substance abuse! Hooray!

-More Charon "character development!" (AKA "character deviation"!)

-Less spelling and consistency errors!

-Inconsistent lag between updates!

-The return of a previous character!! (Can you guess? Probably!)

-Pajama parties!

-Ceaseless snarky character banter!

-New locations that the author made up!

-New CHARACTERS that the author made up!

-Violence that is only sometimes necessary!

-And of course, more progression/complications between Charon and Minion's strange and somewhat frustratingly confusing relationship.

Turning down the volume now. Sorry about that, I'm a little hyper. I hope you enjoy the new story. :D


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